The End of Tomorrow
by beeftony
Summary: Even with the power to rewind time, Max couldn't save Rachel Amber... until now. Max finds herself in a new timeline, with two partners in crime instead of just one. But it's not happily ever after, as Arcadia Bay has more mysteries to uncover, and time doesn't like being messed with.
1. Lynchpin

**Chapter One  
** Lynchpin

If anyone had been awake to witness it, a blue butterfly landing on the windowsill of a suburban house in the wee hours of the morning would have been a strange occurrence, but not one worth remembering. Oftentimes the smallest harbingers of change are the most important.

A shrill tone sounded abruptly from inside the house, and the butterfly flew off, to wherever the winds of change might take it.

There was a groan from within as a hand reached for the phone, swiping a thumb across the screen and bringing it up to her ear. "Who the fuck is this?"

"Chloe? It's… it's Max. Max Caulfield."

Chloe Price rocketed upright, sparing a glance at her alarm clock. "Max? Why the hell are you calling me at three in the morning?" She paused. "After not calling me at all for five years?"

"Listen to me, Chloe. I don't have a whole lot of time to explain this to you, and you wouldn't believe me anyway. Not yet at least."

"Well save it 'til morning then."

"I can't. I took the photo just now, and the next one I take will be too late to save Rachel."

Chloe's mind went blank, then flashed with rage and confusion. "Rachel? How the hell do you know about Rachel? Didn't think you still knew I existed, now you're talking about my best friend?"

"Like I said, there's no time for this, Chloe. Rachel's in danger. You have to help her."

"Haha, very funny, Max, but I just cracked the mystery. I never unfriended you on Facebook. That's about to get remedied." She stood up and began walking over to her computer.

"Chloe, listen to me! This isn't a prank, and I'm sorry for not calling you! I'll explain everything in six months when I move back to Arcadia Bay. But right now I need you to believe me!"

She froze halfway through reaching to the computer, her free hand hovering just above the keyboard. "Wait, you're moving back?"

"Not yet. But in July I'll get an acceptance letter from Blackwell Academy. I'll run into you again. And if things go the way they did before… it won't end well. Especially not for Rachel."

"Max, you are both freaking me out and pissing me off. What do you mean, Rachel's in danger?"

"It involves Nathan Prescott, drugs, and a secret dark room. If you let her go with him… you'll never see her again. Please, Chloe. You don't have to forgive me. But you _need_ to believe me. Please."

"Alright, Max. I'll go out on a limb for you. Worst case scenario I can kick your ass when you show up here. If you don't I'll head to Seattle and do it there."

"Thank you, Chloe. And when you see me again, I won't remember this conversation. At least not until October 18th. You'll have to be patient with me until then."

"Uh… sure, Max. Whatever you say."

"I love you, Chloe. I want you to know that."

"Yeah, whatever. I'm only doing this because it's Rachel."

"I know. That's what you told me you'd say."

"What?"

"Hurry, Chloe."

The phone disconnected, and Chloe stared at it dumbly for several moments before dialing.

"Hello? Chloe?"

"Hey, Rach. Listen, I know it's early, but you're not gonna believe who just called me…"

* * *

"Uhhhhh…." Max Caulfield rubbed her temples, as if waking from a long dream. She opened her eyes, blinking in the sudden light. She was sitting under a tree in the central pavilion of Blackwell Academy, in the middle of a cool October day. For the moment, she was alone.

"Hey there, sleepyhead!"

Or not.

A face popped into view, with dirty blonde hair, green eyes, and a feather earring dangling from one ear. Max did a double take and gasped. "Rachel!"

"Yeah, silly; it's me. You on anything?"

"No, I just… where's Chloe?"

"Off doing who knows what. I'm the one who still goes here, remember?"

"Right. Yeah. Of course I remember."

Rachel Amber sat down next to her, resting her back against the trunk. "You feeling okay, Max?"

She laughed. "I'm feeling great!" Max leaned over and hugged Rachel tightly, which the other girl awkwardly returned. "Let's find Chloe!" She grabbed Rachel by the hand and started dragging her off.

"Whoa, hold your horses there." Rachel escaped from her grip and held up her hands in front of her. "Chloe warned me today was important. She's waiting for us at the hideout."

Max went pale, frowning as she stared at the other girl. "I guess that's as good a place as any. I have a lot to tell you."

"Well, school's out for the day, so why hang around?" She brandished a set of keys. "I'll drive."

* * *

The junkyard by the train tracks looked just as Max remembered it, save for one detail: there wasn't a shallow grave. Rachel led her past the pile of refuse into a shack constructed from cinderblocks, where a certain angry blueberry lay in wait.

"Chloe!" Max burst forward to embrace her best friend, who was, as usual, dressed like she was auditioning for a music video. The other girl returned the hug, and they separated just enough for Rachel to join in as well. "Thanks for waiting. I… I have a lot to explain."

"Damn straight you do." Chloe picked up her beer and took a swig, then passed it to Rachel, who did the same. Max waved her hand to indicate that she preferred to abstain, and the three of them sat down. "Six months ago you called me saying Rachel's in danger, next thing I know you show up at Blackwell just like you said you would."

"And _I_ made a new friend," said Rachel. "You take _amazing_ photos."

She smiled. "I guess in a way I'm meeting you for the first time. There's a lot to go into, so I'll start with how I knew you were in danger."

"Please do."

Max looked at Chloe. "This is gonna sound super weird, and I swear I'm not making any of it up."

"Can't promise I'll believe you Max, but I can at least hear you out."

"Okay then, here goes." She took a deep breath. "I have the power to rewind time."

They both blinked, exchanged a glance, then turned back to Max.

"Yeah, good one, Max. But seriously, what's the truth?"

"It is the truth," she insisted. "How else would I know what was going to happen to Rachel? How would I even know about her in the first place?"

Rachel nodded. "Good point."

"Again, you probably Facebook-stalked me. I'm not even sure she _was_ in danger. I only did it because I wasn't about to take that chance."

"Chloe, I called you in the middle of the night after ignoring you for five years. Does that really seem like something I'd do if everything was fine?

"I don't know. Could've just wanted to mess with me."

"She did know she was gonna get into Blackwell," said Rachel. "And believe me, that's not easy to predict."

"Alright, fair enough."

"Thank you." She turned to Rachel. "And for the record, you really were in danger. Nathan Prescott was going to drug you and take you into a secret darkroom, then take photos of you. But in the timeline I came from, he got the dose wrong and he... he killed you. Then he buried you right over there."

By this point she had started to tear up. She sniffled a bit and wiped her eyes with her sleeve. Rachel stared at her in complete shock.

"Nathan _was_ acting a little creepy at the time," she admitted. "I'm glad Chloe warned me to stay away. And I'm glad… I'm glad you reached out to her."

"Alright, let's say you can rewind time," said Chloe, leaning forward and placing her fingertips on top of the beer bottle, spinning it in place. "How'd you learn to do it?"

"By watching you die."

"What?!" they shouted in unison.

Max shook her head. "I guess you could say Nathan killed both of you on accident. He dosed you at a bar and took you back to his dorm room, and tried taking creepy photos of you. You escaped, then tried to blackmail him so you could pay back the money you owed Frank Bowers."

Chloe blinked. "I still owe him that money. How the hell did you know about that?"

"Time travel, remember?" said Rachel. "Try and keep up."

"Okay, so what happened next?"

"The two of you met in the girl's bathroom at Blackwell, and I happened to be in there at the same time. He had a gun, and he freaked out and shot you on accident. I saw you… die." She clenched her fist. "I reached out my hand, and the next thing I knew I was back in Mr. Jefferson's class, listening to a lecture I'd already heard. Then I went to the bathroom again, set off the fire alarm, and you lived."

"Awesome! Now I get to call you Super Max!"

"Over the next week, we tried to find out what happened to you," she continued, looking at Rachel. "We hoped you were just missing, but in the end we found the Dark Room, and then we found your body. We also found out Mr. Jefferson was behind the whole thing."

"Wait, what? Mark Jefferson? You're serious?"

She nodded.

"Then that means he's still…"

"Yes."

"We have to do something! We should call the—"

"I'm not finished."

They both looked at her attentively.

"While all that was going on, I kept having visions of a tornado. Bigger than any I've ever seen. And it came true. It was supposed to happen last Friday."

"Well, obviously it didn't," said Chloe. "So much for your fortunetelling."

"That brings me to why I decided to find a way to save Rachel," she said. "For good."

Rachel raised an eyebrow. "What are you talking about?"

"When the tornado came, Chloe handed me the picture I took that day in the bathroom. One of my powers allows me to travel back through time using photos, further than I'd be able to reach back normally. She thought if I went back and let her die, it would stop the chain of causality that was leading to the tornado."

"Why would it do that?"

"It wasn't the only weird thing happening. On Monday we saw snow in eighty degree weather, the next day there was a solar eclipse, then dead whales started washing up on the beach, and on Thursday there were two moons in the sky. Reality was falling apart, like a video tape that's been rewound too many times. And it all started when I saved Chloe from dying. But I wasn't about to let her die just based on a theory."

Chloe frowned. "As much as I hate myself for asking this, why didn't you?"

"Because in the end, that didn't make sense either. I used my power to save myself and people other than you so many times and it didn't give me more than a bloody nose. And for that matter, I got the vision of the tornado before I even found you and discovered my powers. So I ripped the photo in half and we drove up to Seattle to stay with my parents."

She reached into her bag, producing a small photo. "That's where I found this."

"A three a.m. selfie?"

"I took it two days before Rachel disappeared in the other timeline. That's when I travelled back to, and called you. We, meaning me and the other version of you, figured out it wasn't your death that caused all this to happen."

She turned to Rachel. "It was yours."

Rachel reared her head back and put a hand to her chest. "What?"

"You have… some sort of connection to the nature in this area. Something that keeps everything in balance. When you died, everything went haywire, and entropy took over. The laws of nature no longer applied. That's probably how I got these powers in the first place."

"That's impossible."

"Maybe. But when Chloe first showed me this junkyard—the other Chloe, I mean—I saw a spirit of a doe, the same one I saw when I had a vision of the tornado. It didn't show up in the picture I tried to take of it, and it was standing right on your grave. I think… I think it was you. Your ghost, anyway."

Rachel's head disappeared into her hands, and she slowly rubbed her temples. Chloe squinted at her.

"On top of that, the fish had been dying for a long time, not just after I saved Chloe. I think me using my powers sped up the entropy and made everything get so weird. Which meant I had to go back to the beginning. I had to save you."

"I need some air," Rachel muttered, standing up and staggering to the door. As soon as she was outside, they heard the sounds of vomit hitting the dirt.

"You stay here," said Chloe. "I'll go talk to her."

She nodded.

"And thanks, Max. For everything. I mean it."

"You're welcome."

* * *

She found Rachel sitting on an old car seat that had been ripped out of some minivan ages ago. Chloe trotted slowly up to her, hands in her pockets, saying nothing. They exchanged a silent glance, and she lit a cigarette, taking a long drag before exhaling. She held it to her side, extending it towards the other girl.

Accepting the offering, Rachel took a drag and passed it back.

"Think it's true?"

"After everything else she was able to prove? I don't doubt it. Doesn't mean I'm not freaked out."

She let the hand holding the cigarette dangle by her waist. "Wanna know something funny? I believed her already."

"Oh yeah?" Rachel took a drag. "Then why give her so much shit?"

"Payback for staying out of touch so long."

"Heh."

"I knew it was true the night she called me," Chloe continued. "Max isn't creative enough to pull all that out of her ass, not to mention she can't lie worth shit. And… it was you. I'd do anything to keep you safe."

"Same here." She handed the cigarette back, and the blue-haired girl put it in her mouth and breathed in deep. "You know what this means, don't you?"

Chloe exhaled, producing a cloud of smoke. "I think so."

"If I'm tied to this land in some way…"

"Then we can't leave."

"Right."

They sat there for a minute or so, taking turns with the cigarette. Finally Rachel growled furiously and stood up, gesturing wildly.

"It doesn't make any sense!" she yelled. "I wasn't even born here! Why am I so important?"

Chloe shrugged. "Because you're the center of everybody's universe?"

"Funny."

"When I first met you," she began, her face taking on a somber expression, "when you kicked over that trash can and set fire to the oak tree, you screamed, and the wind seemed to scream with you. I didn't realize it at the time, but I think Max could be right."

"Always did seem to find the best hiking trails," she admitted. "What kind of a nature person am I if I started that wildfire, though?"

"Hey, fire can be cleansing. Some species of pinecone need extremely high temperatures to open. Nature starts plenty of fires on its own."

"Thanks, that totally helps." She groaned. "I still can't wrap my head around all this."

"Hey, me neither. If you need some space just say the word."

"What I need," said Rachel, "are more answers. And if Max doesn't know them, we'll need to find them on our own."

"Agreed. But… maybe nothing will happen if we leave. Can't hurt to try."

"Chloe, if we were really gonna leave we would have done it by now. Frank gave us that money months ago. You can't tell me you really stuck around just to hear Max's explanation for all this. I think there might be something bigger at work here."

"Yeah." She dropped the cigarette and snuffed it under her heel. "Mr. Jefferson, huh? Isn't he that hot photography professor?"

She nodded. "Always thought he seemed a little too perfect."

"I've heard half the school wants to bang him, and the other half wants to pose for him."

"If he and Nathan really have been drugging and photographing girls, then…"

"I know. We should at least tell someone about it before anyone else gets hurt."

Rachel nodded. "This has been a weird day."

"Same."

"Well, we've kept Max waiting long enough. You up for a little fun?"

Chloe smiled. "Always."

* * *

"So answer me something, Max," said Rachel as the two of them re-entered the shed. "Earlier you said that in a way you're meeting me for the first time. What did you mean by that?"

"It has to do with how my powers work," she answered as Rachel and Chloe took their seats again. "When I travel back through time using a photo instead of just rewinding, then whatever changes I cause take effect, and I only become aware of it on the same day in the new timeline. Until then everything proceeds as it otherwise would have."

Chloe nodded. "Meaning you could give me a warning call, but couldn't get down here to help save Rachel yourself."

"Exactly."

"Is that why you spaced out under the tree earlier?" asked Rachel.

She nodded. "Whatever happened between when I called Chloe that night and today, I don't remember it at all."

"So that night when we stole some old wine and had a threesome up by the lighthouse…?"

"A _what_?!" She rocketed to her feet, and the two of them started laughing.

"Wow Max, I didn't know your voice could get that high!" said Chloe. "Look at her face; you could plant her in a tomato field and lose track of her in two seconds!"

After a few seconds, Max's brain unfroze and she joined in on the laughter. "Very funny, guys."

"Sorry." Rachel wiped her eyes clean and continued to giggle. "I just needed something to break the tension. We did hang out at the lighthouse a few times, but there was no ménage-a-trois involved."

Max slowly descended back into her chair, still blushing. "Oh. Well, that's good, I guess."

"You almost sound disappointed."

"I…"

"Oh my god, she does," said Chloe, leaning in closer and grinning. "Well now I definitely feel bad. We've planted something in her head that'll keep her busy all night."

"Chloe!"

"What? Too far?"

"What do you think?"

"It's okay," said Max, chuckling. "In the other timeline, Chloe and I… it's not important. What matters is you're alive now."

"Wait, did we make out in this _Back to the Future_ bizarro world?"

The blush grew more intense.

"…Did we do more than that?"

Max nodded.

"Well damn, Caulfield. Didn't know you had that in you."

"Please, it was all your idea."

"Now that makes more sense."

Rachel frowned, staring hard at the floor. Chloe turned to her. "Hey, you okay?"

"I'm fine." She nodded vigorously. "I just feel bad for making a stupid joke now."

"Hey." Max leaned forward, reaching out and cupping Rachel's hand in her own. "I didn't come back here for anything like that. The goal was always to save you. When Chloe told me about you, I figured out the way she felt about you wasn't… wasn't just friendship. I won't get in the way of that."

Rachel slowly withdrew her hand, then glanced at Chloe.

"Sorry! Did you not know that?"

"Please, I blurted it out at her the first day we met," said Chloe. "Right here in this junkyard, actually. Not a day I like to remember, but…" She smiled, then turned to Rachel. "That was the first time we were completely honest with each other."

She smiled back. "It was. God, what happened to those days?"

"I dunno. But we're all here now. Max is right: you're alive. That's what matters."

"We don't need to figure this all out right now anyway," she said. "And I've definitely had enough of sitting around feeling sorry for myself. It's Friday night, and Arcadia Bay is our oyster. You girls want to blow off a little steam?"

They nodded. She stood, finishing off the last of the beer with a long swig.

"Then let's roll."

* * *

 **Author's Notes:** I came up with the concept for this story after coming to the same realizations about Rachel Amber that Max describes in this chapter. The first episode of Before the Storm was great, and made me fall back in love with this series after the original game's rather disappointing ending. I once tried to write a continuation fic, but quickly ran out of places to go. So why not start over from the beginning?

I have three additional chapters written out, so updates will be weekly for at least the next three weeks. Enjoy, and please let me know what you think!


	2. Birds of a Feather Rock Together

**Chapter Two  
** Birds of a Feather Rock Together

"Gotta say, Rach," Chloe began as they stared at the building in front of them. "This place is too sketchy for me, and I met you in an abandoned mill."

The bar was outside of Arcadia Bay proper, a few miles from the casino. It was situated flush against a large forest, with motorcycles and pick-up trucks parked out front. Music thrummed from inside, and the three of them stood before it, not moving.

"It's one of the only places around here that doesn't card, so long as you know the right people," said Rachel. "Besides, Max will keep us safe, right?"

Max blinked and shook her head rapidly in confusion. "What?"

"If Chloe or I catch a knife in the gut, you'll rewind and stop it, won't you?"

"Don't even joke about that," she said. "I'm not sure I want to be here."

"Then go home, dude." Chloe stared at the bar and frowned. "I'll be honest, though. I wouldn't go to a place like this unless I was looking to knife someone myself."

"It'll be fine," Rachel insisted. "And I'm going in with or without you two, so it doesn't matter to me either way." She started moving towards the door.

Sighing resignedly, Max and Chloe hung their heads and followed.

The door exploded open, and a large, heavyset biker flew forward, landing roughly on the ground. He scrambled to his feet, fists up, but caught a bat to the side of the head, and went down a second time. The owner of the bat rested it on her shoulder, then stepped hard on the man's chest.

She had rich bronze skin and deep black hair tied in a long braid, with a raven's feather tucked into a patterned headband. She wore faded jeans and a black leather jacket, and stood over the man with implacable menace.

"Remember this for next time, dickhead," she snarled, pointing the bat right in his face. "You start a fight in my bar, and I'm gonna finish it. Go home."

"Alright, alright, fucking uncle!" She removed her foot from his chest, and he rose to his feet with no small amount of effort, rubbing the side of his head. "What about the other guy?"

"He's seeing little cartoon duckies right about now," she replied. "But I'll send him on his way once you're safely out of sight. Get out of here, Leonard."

"Yeah, yeah, sheesh." He walked over to his motorcycle, then mounted it and drove away.

Chloe's eyes sparkled like Christmas lights, and her smile left her mouth hanging wide open.

"Holy fuck!"

The woman with the bat turned to regard them, a weary scowl on her face. "What the hell are you girl scouts doing here?"

"Relax, Sam," said Rachel, walking forward. "They're with me. This is Chloe Price, who I've told you about, and Max Caulfield. My other best friend."

Chloe rushed forward, extending her hand. "Hi there."

She didn't respond.

"Max, Chloe, this is Samantha Black Elk. The bar you see before you belongs to her."

Max waved. "Nice to meet you."

She turned to Rachel. "Look, you know you're always welcome here, but I stick my neck out enough for you without you bringing Thing One and Thing Two along." She gestured to Chloe. "This one might pass inspection if the Sheriff pops in for a visit." Her gaze moved to Max. "But you? This ain't a place that serves milkshakes, honey. You look fucking twelve."

"To be honest, I don't even want to be here."

"Good for you. Run along home now."

"Sam, c'mon." Rachel clapped a hand on her shoulder. "She's a lot more badass than she looks. I'll even prove it to you."

She crossed her arms. "That's gonna be one tough fucking sell."

Smiling, Rachel sauntered in a circle around her. "Let's play a game. If Max wins, then you let her and Chloe in, and I get to ask a favor of you."

"And when I win?"

She reached into her pocket, producing several thousand dollars in cash. " _If_ you win, I pay for everybody's next round." Rachel leaned in closer. "All. Night. Long."

"Rachel, what the fuck?" Chloe surged forward, but Rachel stopped her with a gesture.

Sam stared at the stack of bills. "Where the hell did you get that kind of money?"

"Not important. Are you game or not?"

"Alright, color me fucking intrigued. What's the game?"

"Max here… can tell the future." She brought her hands together in front of her then spread them apart again. "She will predict four events that will happen in the next thirty seconds. All will transpire exactly as she foretells."

"Oh, this'll be cute. Tell me then, short stuff. What's the future hold?"

Max concentrated, then took a deep breath.

"Five seconds after I finish talking, the second man you knocked out will stumble out that door. He'll try and charge you, but you'll hit him in the stomach with the bat. Then Leonard will come back, but he'll be too drunk and crash his motorcycle into that truck over there. Finally, the second man will try and sweep your legs, but you'll knock him out cold with a kick to the face."

"Sounds like somebody's been watching too many late night movies. Quit making shit up and—"

"You fucking bitch!"

Just as Max had predicted, a second biker charged out the door of the bar, heading right towards Sam. She calmly stepped to the side, whacking him in the stomach and driving the air out of his lungs, causing him to double over and crumple like an accordion.

The sound of a motorcycle engine caused all of them to turn, and they saw Leonard, sliding out of control, careen into the exact pickup that she had indicated. The second man used that opportunity to reach for Sam's legs, but she avoided his hands with a quick hop, and kicked him in the face with a steel-toed boot, knocking him unconscious.

She stood there, staring at the young brunette fortuneteller, who smiled with a newfound confidence.

"Okay, I don't know how the fuck you managed that, but a deal's a deal. Come on in."

* * *

"Rachel, what the hell was that?" Chloe whispered as they walked inside. "Do you have any idea what flashing that kind of money around here could—"

"Chloe, I love you, but you need to trust me. We're safe here. Sam's an old friend."

"How old? How come I've never met her?"

Rachel shrugged. "To be honest, I haven't talked to her in a while. You both come from two separate parts of my life that, until now, had no reason to overlap. But desperate times make for strange bedfellows."

"I'm gonna need more than that."

"And I'll explain everything," she promised, gripping the sides of Chloe's face and tousling her bangs. "In a minute. Now why don't you and Max go find a seat? I won't be long."

Chloe glared at her, then took Max by the hand and yanked her off towards the nearest unoccupied table.

Inside, the bar was a mix of wood, neon, and a permanent smoky haze. The bar itself was directly across from the main entrance, and to the right there were numerous tables and chairs, with some booths running along the back wall. A pool table rested in one corner, while a dartboard occupied another. All in all, it was everything one could hope for from a dive bar.

"Cute friends you got," said Sam, setting the bat down behind the bar as she and Rachel found a corner.

"The best. How are things, Sam?"

She leaned against the wall. "Can't complain. Those guys were the only two I had to kick out tonight. It's the most exciting thing that's happened all week."

"More exciting than being reunited with an old friend?"

"Meh."

"So, a deal's a deal," she said. "I need a favor."

"You could have just asked for one. Didn't need to put on a whole song and dance."

"Yeah, but that was way more fun. Besides, after the way we left things, I wasn't sure you'd be willing to help me."

"Water under the bridge. I've got your back."

"Thanks. Now about this favor: I need to see your grandfather."

Sam crossed her arms and reared her head back. "That's no small favor."

"Hence why I wanted to make extra sure you'd do it. I know he doesn't talk to just anybody, but…"

"You're not just anybody. I'll make it happen. Text you the details when I set it up."

She grasped her shoulders with both hands. "Thank you so much, Sam. I knew I could count on you."

"Don't mention it. And go tell your friends that just because I let them in here, that doesn't mean I'll be serving them."

Rachel turned around to see Chloe holding an empty bottle over her head, one eye closed, poking at it with one finger while Max had buried her forehead in her palm. She laughed.

"No worries. And thanks again!"

* * *

"Chloe, can I ask you something?"

She grabbed both ends of the bottle and yanked hard in opposite directions, and it began to spin with feverish speed. "Fire away, Max."

"Is Rachel usually like this?"

"You really don't remember a damn thing, do you?"

Max shook her head.

"First night I met her was at a Firewalk concert in the old mill," she said. "So she knows how to thrash. First I've heard of her hanging out at a place like this, though. Even Frank doesn't come here."

"That you know of."

"Fair."

"What do you think of her friend?"

"Badass, natch, but you saw how she brushed us off. Thinks she's too good for us."

Max shrugged. "We're teenage girls showing up at a dive bar on a Friday night with no idea what we're even doing here. Admit it, Chloe: we look kind of lame."

"You? Totally. Me? Impossible."

"Maybe if we were at a rock concert. But you don't exactly blend into the crowd here. I definitely don't."

"Rachel's the only one who does." The bottle had stopped spinning by now, and Chloe started it up again. "The really special thing about her is that she just… belongs. Everywhere she goes. She's a girl who can fit in with any crowd. Even so, I'm just as in the dark about this place as you are."

"An easy problem to solve," said Rachel as she slid into a chair beside Chloe. "Like I said, Sam's an old friend."

"How'd you meet?" asked Max.

"Believe it or not, summer camp. Sam and I spent a lot of time together when we were young. But you know how life is. I got into Blackwell, she went to a public high school. Plus she's like three years older than me, so she graduated first. We sorta fell out of touch for a while."

Max and Chloe exchanged a glance.

Chloe looked around at the other patrons, eyeing the whole place skeptically. "And how does she own a bar?"

"It belonged to her father. She inherited it, opened it back up. Don't let the clientele fool you; this place is really hopping on ladies' night."

"The more important question," said Max, leaning forward. "Is what are we doing here?"

"Right." She rested her forearms on the table, forming a diamond with her thumbs and forefingers. "Sam… knows some people. People who might be able to help us get answers. Explain some things."

Chloe crossed her arms and leaned back in her chair. "Like what?"

"Like Max's theory that there's more to me than meets the eye," she said. "Arcadia Bay is old, and it's got a lot of history. But I don't know all of it, and Sam's family has been here since before Ezekiel Blackwell's expedition. Her grandfather's something of an expert."

"So why aren't we talking to him?"

"We will. That's why I needed to see Sam. So she can set up a meeting. He can be… hard to find."

Max raised an eyebrow. "Why?"

She smiled sheepishly. "Because he's kind of a fugitive?"

"What?!" Max and Chloe shrieked in unison.

"Calm down." She gestured with her hands, and they stared at her, waiting for an explanation. "Have you heard of the Organization for Protecting the Environment Now?"

Max frowned. "OPEN?"

"It's… a group of people who take environmental conservation very seriously. But you could have guessed that from the name."

"How seriously?"

"Enough that a few of them got arrested for trying to bomb Pan Estates."

Chloe glanced at her shrewdly. "So they're eco-terrorists."

"Basically. My dad's office investigated them a few years back, before the FBI got involved. Sam's grandfather Joseph is their leader."

"And we're meeting him why again?"

"He knows more about Arcadia Bay than anyone else alive," she said. "If we're going to figure out what's going on with me, we need the answers he has."

"And that's the only reason we're meeting him, right?" asked Max. "I'm all for getting answers, but not if it means ending up on a watchlist."

She patted the other girl's hand reassuringly. "I promise that's the only reason. You don't have to come, but you never know when your powers might come in handy."

"Speaking of which, why'd you make her show them off?" asked Chloe. "You were willing to risk the money Frank loaned us on a stupid bet?"

"It's not a risk if you have faith," said Rachel, smiling. "I knew Max would impress her. Well done, by the way."

Max smiled back. "Thanks. In the other timeline, Chloe made me do the same thing to prove my powers were real."

"Well congrats, Super Max." Chloe scowled at the rest of the bar. "There's no doubt about it now."

"Oh, don't be so grumpy." Rachel wrapped her arm around Chloe and kissed her cheek. "I'm sorry for not telling you before we got here. But we're here now, and this is a great place to go if you want to blow off steam without anyone in town finding out about it the next day."

"That so?" She twisted the bottle one more time, watching it as it spun. "Because I could stand to get wasted right about now."

"Out of luck on that front. Sam says just because she let you in here, that doesn't mean you get any booze. She's pushing the limits of her liquor license as it is."

"Then I'll make my own fun." She snatched the bottle, lifting it off the table, then stood.

"Chloe, what are you—?"

"Hey dillhole!"

A large biker wearing a Harley Davidson jacket turned around just in time to get clocked across the face with an empty beer glass. He doubled over, right into Chloe's rising knee. He crumpled to the floor, and Chloe held the shattered bottle in the air, shouting obscenities as the man's companions started to surround her.

"You fucking pencil-dicks want some? Then come on!"

"Hey, that's _enough_!" shouted Sam, clearing the bar with a single leap and marching towards her. "Get out of my fucking bar!"

"Come and make me, Pocahontas!"

"Oh, you did _not_ just call me that!" Sam rolled up her sleeves and charged at Chloe, punching her right in the face. Her jaw popped out of place and a spray of blood and teeth hit the floor, with Chloe following soon after.

"Max!" Rachel whispered. "Do something!"

Max nodded. "Right."

She extended her hand, and time froze for a moment. Rachel glanced over in Chloe's direction, and her eyes grew steadily wider as she saw the other girl rise from the floor, and jaw moved back into place. Sam's fist withdrew backwards, and soon she was walking in reverse, back over the bar.

Chloe was in retrograde as well, and the bottle reformed before her eyes as the blue-haired girl moved back to the table, depositing the bottle back onto it, where it began to spin in the opposite direction. Max lowered her hand, and time began to flow normally again.

"Then I'll make my own fun," Chloe said for the second time, reaching for the bottle. Rachel got there first.

"Chloe, don't. I know you're about to start some shit because you're jealous of Sam, but just don't. All you'll do is get your ass kicked."

She raised an eyebrow. "How could you possibly know that?"

"Doesn't take a fortuneteller to know when my best friend is about to act out. If you want to smash something, wait until we're out of here."

Chloe scowled at her, but relented with a huff. "Fine. Sorry."

She smiled. "Don't worry about it."

Max was staring at her with wide eyes, and Rachel looked back at her in understanding. "We'll talk later," she whispered.

She nodded, and after a few more minutes, the three of them left.

* * *

 **Author's Notes:** Well, now that it took me precisely one chapter to fix the biggest plot hole in the series, we need an actual story to tell. I have a fairly strong idea of where I want to go with this, and I have about six chapters total written out so far. Updates will still be weekly for the foreseeable future.

We'll get to Amberpricefield eventually, but I try not to jump into shipping at the very beginning. Let's give it some time to build.

Enjoy, and please tell me what you think.


	3. Seven Minutes In Heaven

**Chapter Three  
** Seven Minutes In Heaven

"And this is my stop," said Chloe as Rachel's car pulled up to the Price residence. "Better hope I don't wake up mom and the step-douche. Or maybe I will. Might be fun. You wanna come in, Max?"

"Not tonight," she replied, shaking her head. "Like you said, Joyce and David could be sleeping. I'll be in enough trouble for missing curfew without waking Blackwell's head of security."

"Fair enough. Catch you later, then." She turned to Rachel. "Sorry about tonight. Don't know why I was in a downer mood after meeting such a kick-ass chick. Sam seems cool. Just… next time don't spring something like that on me, okay?"

"I promise," said Rachel, smiling. "Now get a good night's sleep. And don't worry about missing curfew, Max. You can stay with me tonight."

"Night, losers," Chloe said as she exited the car, smacking the roof with both hands. "See you tomorrow."

Max waved. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight, Chloe." Rachel waited for Max to clamber into the front seat before driving off, and soon they were on the open road. "Well Max, you picked the perfect time to get all your senses back. My parents are out of town until Monday. We can have a sleepover."

She squinted with one eye, tilting her head in confusion. "Just us? Why not invite Chloe?"

"Let's just say there's something we need to figure out first. It's not that I don't want to include her—God knows I love that girl—but I want to see if I'm friends with the new you even if she's not around. Or is it the old you?" She shook her head, turning right at the intersection. "Gah, time travel is confusing."

"You're telling me. And yeah, there is something we need to talk about."

"I'll be honest, Max. I took a pretty big leap of faith when I had you play that game with Sam. Even after everything you were able to prove, I still wasn't sure your powers were real. But now… now there's no doubt in my mind."

She nodded. "When I stopped Chloe from getting herself in trouble, you weren't affected by the rewind. That proves the doe in the other timeline was your ghost—it was immune to my powers too. What does that mean?"

"For one thing, it means you can't take anything back with me, because I'll still remember it after you rewind. And it means you were right: there is something weird going on with me."

"This whole time I've been feeling so alone, wondering why I was the one who got these powers." She smiled. "But now I know I'm not. It's good to have someone else who can actually relate to what I'm going through. As much as Chloe tries, she'll never really understand what it feels like."

"Well, I still love her anyway. And now I share something special with you too, Max. I think we'll be good friends."

"Were we? Before I caught up to all the changes I caused?"

"Oh, definitely. You have a really good eye for photography, and I've been told I'm an exceptional muse. We make a good pair. Chloe's lucky to have us."

Her smile grew wider. "You can say that again."

* * *

"Well, here it is," she announced, turning the key and opening the large stained glass double doors of the Amber household. "Casa, sweet casa. Make yourself at home."

"Does Chloe come over here a lot?" Max asked as she navigated through the darkness. Rachel helpfully turned on the light.

"She's been known to." She giggled. "Really can't get her out of your mind, can you?"

"Sorry, it's just… she's the most important person in my life. I'd do anything for her."

"So you've said." Rachel closed the door, locked it, and came up behind her, placing both hands on her shoulders and speaking directly into her ear. "But is there room for one more?"

Max quivered as the close proximity of her voice tickled her eardrum and sent a jolt of electricity travelling down her spine. "I guess we'll find out."

"That's the spirit!" She clapped her hands against Max's shoulders and released her, walking further into the foyer. "Want something to drink?"

"Just water, please."

"Coming right up." She crossed the family room and ventured into the kitchen, making a beeline for the fridge. Max trudged in carefully after her. The kitchen was still dark, broken by the spear of light that escaped from the fridge as Rachel leaned in and grabbed some ice out of the freezer, depositing it in a glass. She then filled it using the water dispenser built into the door, before finally handing it to Max.

With that finished, she grabbed a beer out of the fridge and sat on the small island in the middle, staring at her guest with extreme interest.

"So tell me, Max. Have you ever played Two Truths and a Lie?"

"What?"

"If we're gonna make this a proper sleepover, we should play a few games. I repeat: have you ever played it?"

Max shook her head. "I'm guessing you're an expert at it."

"I've been told as much. I played it with Chloe the first time we spent the day together. It's a great way to get to know someone. Even though we've technically met, you're a bit different now. And I know you're dying to find out more about me."

"So how does it work?"

Rachel stepped down from the counter, walking over towards the darkened family room. Once there, she flicked the light switch, revealing a modestly sized space with comfortable looking furniture, with a wall-mounted television just above a modest fireplace. Sandstone covered most of the available surfaces in the open floorplan, with occasional bursts of colored mosaics and conversation pieces. Two recliners bordered the central walkway, and a couch rested below a window that looked out into the front yard, currently shuttered.

"Each person says three things about themselves," she explained, plopping down on the couch. Max followed suit. "As the name suggests, two of them are true, and one is a lie. Then the other person has to figure out which is which."

Max set down her water. "Sounds fun."

"Oh, it is. And now I know you can't cheat by rewinding. Won't work on me."

"And what guarantee do I have that you haven't already played this game with me?"

"None at all. You'll just have to trust me."

"Heh. Hard mode it is, then."

"Just how I like it. I'll start." She looked ponderously about the room, searching for inspiration. "One time, I got Victoria Chase to tear up her cashmere sweater after I told her it was a knockoff. Want to know the funny part? It wasn't."

Max laughed. "Damn! What did she do to deserve that?"

"She called Steph Gingrich a dyke. I mean, she _is_ into girls, but there are politer ways to say that."

"I got Samuel to spill paint all over her sweater once using my rewind," she replied. "Just 'cause she told me to 'go fuck your selfie.' I felt sorry for her afterward, though."

"Well, all is fair in love and war. My second fact… is that I lost my virginity on the beach, under a midnight sky. And no, it wasn't with Chloe."

"Didn't think it was. As far as the other Chloe told me, you guys never dated."

"We kissed once or twice," she admitted. "But in the end it didn't work out. Sadly."

"What's your third thing?"

"I find you distractingly beautiful."

Max blushed, leaning back instinctively. "W-what?"

"You heard me. You'd do just as well in front of a camera as you do behind it, Max Caulfield. Go on and tell me then: what's the lie?"

"I feel like that last one is true, just because you'd never admit something that big unless you wanted to distract me from the real lie."

"Well sleuthed, Max. So far so good."

"I can definitely believe Victoria Chase would be that big of a bully, and you're pretty damn good at convincing people. I'll say the sweater story is true as well. But you didn't lose your virginity on a beach."

She smiled. "Correct you are. Technically it was the lifeguard shack behind the beach."

"Wow. Who was it with?"

"I don't kiss and tell." She took a sip of the beer and curled her knees up, reclining back on the arm of the couch. "Your turn."

"Three things about myself, huh?" She focused, placing a finger under her chin. "I've seen _Cannibal Holocaust_ more than once."

"Ooh, weird movie tastes, huh? Me too."

"Fact number two." She held up two fingers. "I've eaten whale. But I still think we should save them. The endangered ones especially."

"Of course. Otherwise Kirk and Spock will have to travel back in time to save the planet, and then you wouldn't be so special anymore."

Max collapsed in laughter, clutching her stomach. "Don't forget Bones. He was there too!"

"Yeah, he gave that lady a pill and she grew a new kidney. He's the real hero."

"When things were getting really crazy in the other timeline, whales started washing up on beaches by the dozen," she said, her face taking on a thousand yard stare. "A bunch of animals were dying. Birds started falling from the sky, and a fisherman I met by the Two Whales told me most of the fish in the bay were just… gone. They'd been getting scarcer for months."

"Ever since I died, right?"

She nodded. "That's how I finally figured out the tornado wasn't entirely caused by me fucking around with time. Bad shit had been going on for months, and nature was slowly dying. All I did was speed up the process." Max closed her eyes. "I think the tornado might have been your final revenge against a town that took everything from you."

"I don't know, Max. On the one hand I've had moments where I want to see all the assholes in this place suffer and burn, but a tornado puts everybody in danger, even the people I actually care about. That doesn't sound like the sort of thing I'd do on purpose."

"If you were even aware that you caused it," she said. "When we got close to the storm, I felt this… anger radiating from it. Like it was alive. But I also remember that whole week, when the doe was guiding me and Chloe to the truth. That might have been you wanting to get us out of its way by showing me the lighthouse would be safe."

"Let's hope we never have to find out," she replied. "What's your third thing?"

"I was jealous of you. In the other timeline, I mean." She stared at the kitchen, her face composed and somber. "I told Chloe I was happy that she made a friend to replace me, but my subconscious had other ideas."

She turned to face her. "And honestly? You're nothing like I imagined. Everyone described you as being so perfect it made me feel like there was nothing I could do to measure up to you. But now that I've met you, I understand what they were trying to say. Words can't really do you justice, Rachel Amber."

Rachel smiled. "Flattering. And too passionate to be false. I'm glad I was able to surprise you, Max."

"I'm glad too."

"Now, how to choose from the remaining two…" She drummed a finger against her chin while she ruminated on it. "You've lived on the west coast all your life, and even when you moved out of Arcadia Bay you went to Seattle, just when the whole place was starting to go vegan. Still, it is a coastal city, so you could have eaten whale. I'm gonna go with true."

She nodded. "It tasted weird. I finished it because I didn't want to be rude, but I wouldn't order it again."

"Now, I am a girl who's sat through _Rocky Horror Picture Show_ at least five times, and who did a paper on grindhouse movies for extra credit. But even I didn't have the stomach to sit through _Cannibal Holocaust_ more than once. I doubt you did either."

Max clapped. "Well done. Taboos aren't as appealing once you've already done them."

"So if my math is correct," she said, sitting up and sliding closer to Max. "You've told me two truths and one lie."

"Did you expect me to cheat?"

"A little. Glad you didn't though."

"Did Chloe? When you played it with her?"

"Not at all. It's good to know I can trust you to be honest. Even when it doesn't really count."

"I'm glad I can trust you too. I wasn't sure what you'd be like. I just knew you being alive would make Chloe happy."

"Even if that meant you couldn't have her?"

Max frowned. "Like I said, I won't get in the way if you two want to… explore what you mean to each other."

"As if we haven't already had three years to do just that? I know Chloe loves me. And I love her back. But we've been down that road before." She leaned in closer, and Max could smell her perfume. Jasmine. "I'm not saying it'll never happen, but… let's not worry about that right now."

"Right." She frowned, taking another sip of her water. "We should go to bed. Before this goes where I think it's going."

Rachel leaned in closer. "And where's that?"

"We shouldn't," she insisted. "It wouldn't be fair to Chloe."

She drew back, her eyebrow raised in confusion. "What are you talking about?"

Max blinked, then her face flushed red. "You mean you're not trying to seduce me right now?"

Laughing, Rachel patted her on the chest. "Nothing that extreme, no. But I _was_ flirting." She pinched her thumb and forefinger together. "Just a little."

"Oh." She chuckled nervously. "Okay. You really got me."

"I was right," she said, grinning. "You really do wish we had a threesome by the lighthouse."

Her blush intensified, and Max stared hard at her knees.

"Let's go to bed, Max. And don't be too disappointed. You never know what the future might hold."

* * *

"Hey, Rachel?"

"Hey what?"

Max was sprawled out next to the other girl in her queen-sized bed, with about a foot of distance between them. She remembered another time, another place, when the girl sleeping next to her had blue hair that started to turn purple from the chlorine.

"I know you weren't affected by the second rewind," she said. "But what about the first? When I predicted everything that would happen?"

"Felt like normal time for me," she said. "Didn't notice any change."

"So why was the second time different?"

Rachel shrugged. "Got me. You didn't get your powers all at once, did you?"

"Not really. I discovered new ones whenever I felt really strong emotions. I found out about my rewind when Chloe got shot, and I figured out the photo trick after we had this huge argument. It ended with her wishing her dad was still alive, so I travelled back using a photo William took of us the same day he died."

"And you saved him? Why aren't we living in that world right now?"

Max closed her eyes and shook her head. "Because through some cruel twist of fate, Chloe got in a car accident instead, when she turned sixteen. She was paralyzed from the neck down, and her parents were drowning in debt trying to keep her alive even as her lungs were failing. She asked me to give her an overdose of morphine, but I just… couldn't."

She turned to look at her. "Not to mention in that world, you were still dead. In the end I had to let William die. Again."

"Wow. That must have been hard."

"Understatement of the century. I was only trying to make Chloe's life better, but all I did was land her in a different kind of hell." She frowned. "Honestly, I was surprised when saving you didn't come with a drawback. That whole week it felt like the universe itself was out to punish me for using powers I never even asked for." She stared up at the ceiling. "I'm still waiting for the other shoe to drop."

The other girl reached over and patted her shoulder. "If it does, we'll figure out a way to deal with it."

"How? I can't keep rewinding around situations trying to fix every little mistake. I can't abuse this power."

"Says who? What's stopping you from using it to rule the world?"

"I don't know. But I know it's not a toy. Chloe and I played around with it in the other timeline, but I overused it and I completely burned out, right when Kate Marsh was about to jump off the roof of our dorm."

"Wait, what?"

Her eyes went wide and she shot upright with a gasp. "Kate!"

"Max, what's wrong? What about Kate?"

She was scrolling violently through her phone while she explained. "Kate was another one of Nathan and Mr. Jefferson's victims. She was drugged and barely remembered anything, but a video of her getting high at a party went viral, and she got bullied for it so relentlessly that she tried to jump. I managed to talk her down in that timeline, but…"

"Whoa, whoa, slow down, Max." Rachel grabbed her phone and set it aside. "Kate's fine. She got bullied in this world too, but you were there for her. We both were."

"Really? You're not just saying that?"

"I wouldn't lie about something like that. You're a good friend in every timeline."

She let out a breath she didn't know she was holding. "That's good. But we have to tell people about the Dark Room. Kate still needs justice."

"I agree. But we need to be smart. Gather evidence." She frowned. "You're sure Mr. Jefferson is behind it?"

"As sure as I saw him shoot Chloe in front of me and lecture me in his Dark Room for hours while the tornado ripped everything apart. I was so focused on Nathan, David, and Frank that I never saw it coming. Even though I should have."

"It's just hard to believe, you know? He seems like such a cool person."

"It's all an act," said Max. "In the end he's just someone who preys on women and thinks we're nothing more than props for him to make art with. The day I discovered my powers, he said he could frame any one of us in a dark corner, and capture us in a moment of desperation. I had no idea he meant that literally."

"Makes me sick just thinking about it. I can't believe I bought into his bullshit like everybody else."

"I did too. He's actually the reason I came to Blackwell. When I found out he was behind it all, I felt so betrayed and stupid. But he's so committed to putting on a performance that there's no way to really see it coming." Max paused. "How well do you know him, anyway?"

"Why's that matter?"

"Just wondering if you know something I don't."

"I never modeled for him, if that's what you're asking. Took his class last semester, we talked a few times. Enough for me to get a picture of the man I thought he was." She shook her head. "But none of that's important."

"Is this why you had me play that game with you? To see how good of a liar I was?"

Rachel raised both eyebrows and her eyes flared with surprise. "There really is nothing you can't figure out, is there? Don't worry, Max. You've got me convinced, but if we're gonna go after Jefferson, we need proof."

She frowned. "Which will be harder to get given that you're still alive."

"Huh?"

"In the other timeline, David Madsen was doing surveillance on people because he was investigating your disappearance. Frank Bowers had a ledger of people he dealt drugs to, and Chloe and I managed to swipe Nathan Prescott's burner phone, along with some documents from Principal Wells' office. We cross-referenced data from all those sources and figured out where Kate was taken, and then we found the Dark Room."

"So you already know where it is. No need to do all the legwork this time."

She nodded. "The old Prescott farmhouse. But going there is risky. Jefferson has surveillance cameras in there, and when we found your body in the junkyard, he lured us back there and shot Chloe in the head. I couldn't rewind because he drugged me."

"So we bring protection. You saw Sam in action. Hell, David could actually prove useful instead of just overprotective."

"I know. But we need to be careful about this. The reason we didn't call the cops is because most of them are paid for by the Prescotts. And without a murder charge, Nathan's family could just make all of this go away."

"Max, my father is the District Attorney. Once we find the evidence, we'll give it to him and he'll make sure Nathan and Mr. Jefferson pay for it." She glared out the window. "He at least owes me that after everything he's done."

"Huh?"

"Point is, this won't get swept under the rug. I'll make sure of it."

"I hope so. For Kate. And all the other girls they've hurt."

"Amen, sister."


	4. Stuck in the Middle with You

**Chapter Four  
** Stuck in the Middle with You

"Chloe! Wakey-wakey, eggs and bakey!"

Groaning, Chloe dragged herself from the clutches of her bed and its sweet promises of warmth and oblivion. Reaching over to her left, she pawed around for a moment before remembering that her stash wasn't there, on account of having been flushed by the step-douche. That meant war.

She hadn't previously thought it possible to get tired of sustaining that level of anger at a man who brought nothing but misery and discomfort into her life, but living with the enemy for so long had worn her down to the point where she didn't even bother getting into shouting matches anymore, except on special occasions. Mostly she contented herself with spiteful glares and biting remarks. Not that it made any difference to her mother, who still held out hope that they might one day become a happy family. As if.

"Yeah, yeah, coming!" she shouted, throwing on a black sleeveless shirt emblazoned with a skull made out of pure sugar wearing a sombrero, along with a torn pair of blue jeans that clung to her like body paint. She completed the ensemble with a jacket, a beanie, and some combat boots, then grabbed her phone and headed downstairs.

"There you are," said Joyce. "Breakfast is almost ready; go on and sit at the table."

"It's fucking Saturday, Mom," she replied, lumbering into the living room. "I could have just eaten in the afternoon, like God intended."

"I know what you feed yourself when left to your own devices. This way you'll at least get a good meal."

"Look at me, Mom," she said, gesturing across her body. "Junk food has failed to make me morbidly obese. I can feed myself."

"Right, just like you can afford a place of your own, or hold down a job, or pay taxes instead of staying in your room all day smoking pot."

Chloe snorted, leaning back against the table and crossing her arms. "Touché."

"I know you're pissed off because David flushed your stash, but try not to take it out on your mother. Or him, for that matter."

"Sure, I'll just vent all my frustrations on my government-issued whipping boy." She placed a hand over her eyes and scanned around the room. "Now where did little Enrique run off to?"

Turning around, Joyce raised an eyebrow and tilted her head forward. "Enrique?"

"You know how it is, Mom. Immigrants are stealing all the jobs."

She shook her head. "Sometimes I just don't understand your sense of humor."

"It's a millennial thing. Everything's ironic now."

"By the way," she said as she returned her attention to the eggs, "I couldn't help noticing what time you got home last night. Without your truck."

Chloe shrugged. "Wasn't really fit to drive. Rachel dropped me off."

Sighing, she hung her head and rested her palms on the counter. "At least you're being responsible about one thing. Is Rachel also going to help you pick it up?"

"Probably. She and Max are coming over later, bee-tee-dubs."

"Well I have to get to work soon, but David will be home in case you need anything."

"Great. I was hoping my day would get worse."

"Chloe…"

"It's fine, Mom. Where's step-douche now?"

"In the garage. One thing you do have in common is that you'd both rather feed yourselves sometimes. And here I thought my cooking was the biggest part of my appeal."

Pushing off the table, Chloe moved closer and smiled. "Don't worry, Mom. I'm sure Max and Rachel still adore your food."

"Oh, I know. I'm glad Max is back in your life. You and Rachel could both use a good influence."

"God, not this shit again. Max never got let down by either of her parents. Me and Rachel weren't so lucky."

"I didn't mean that the way it sounded. I'm just saying, she's actually respectful around adults."

"So is Rachel. You've had her over enough times to know that. Hell, I would be too if you'd all get off my crack for once."

"Chloe…"

"You don't have to say anything, Mom. I know you wish Max was your daughter instead."

Joyce used the spatula to scrape the eggs out of the pan, then retrieved the bacon before handing her the plate. "Believe it or not, Chloe, I wouldn't trade you for the world. And Lord knows I've been tempted. I know it's been hard for you since your father died, and I know David could never replace him, but—"

"Don't finish that sentence." She turned away and stomped back to the table, slamming the plate down. "Ever."

"Fine." She threw up her hands. "Give Max and Rachel my love. And don't burn the house down."

Chloe smirked, brandishing her fork. "No promises, Mom."

* * *

"Nnnngh." Max stretched out her arms, eyes still closed, then settled back down on the bed. She heard a click and saw a flash behind her eyelids, then blinked awake as she rose.

"Rise and shine, sleeping beauty," said Rachel, lowering the camera. She was propped up next to her, having held her arm out just far enough to take a selfie with both of them in frame. "We've kept Chloe waiting long enough."

She squinted at the other girl. "What are you doing?"

"Thought I'd capture the moment," she answered, retrieving the picture and shaking it until the color flooded in. "Or is that something only you're allowed to do?"

Laughing, Max rose and set her feet on the floor. "Don't worry about it. Just wait until I'm awake next time."

"You got it." She handed the camera back, but kept the photo. "You photograph really well when you're asleep, though. Ever thought of modeling? I could get you in with my agent."

"I prefer to stay behind the camera, thanks." She sniffed the air as she stood up. "I still smell like that bar."

"Well, we can't have that." Rachel strode over to her closet, opening it up to reveal a sizeable collection of outfits. "Take your pick. We're about the same size."

Max nodded. "I know. I've worn your clothes before. In the other timeline."

"Oh really?" Her voice took on a playful tone. "How'd it feel?"

"Major confidence booster," she admitted. "And everybody commented on it. I don't really think I lived up to you, though."

"That's because there's only one me." Rachel retrieved a band tee shirt and a blue flannel, along with grey stonewashed jeans. "But don't think that makes you inferior. You're just special in a different way. These ought to fit you."

"Thanks," she said as the other girl handed them over. "I'll go change."

"I should too. Even if that bar smell totally goes with my aesthetic."

Max laughed and headed to the bathroom.

Even after all the hype, Rachel Amber was nothing like she had expected. She immediately understood the other girl's appeal: rather than trying to prove her own importance through self-indulgent humble-bragging like Victoria, Rachel was kind, easy-going, and cared deeply about the people around her. She was also spontaneous and fun, ready to drop everything and go have an adventure at a moment's notice. Chloe had told her once that when you were hanging out with Rachel Amber, it felt like anything was possible.

She was also _very_ flirty, and Max found herself flustered, constantly unsure of whether the other girl was seriously interested in her, or if this was how she behaved with everybody. Max had begun to wonder if Chloe didn't mean quite as much to Rachel as she'd thought.

But she quickly dismissed that idea. Rachel was difficult to pin down, but she definitely cared about Chloe. And apparently Max herself meant quite a lot to her as well.

Shaking her head, she finished changing and threw her other clothes into her bag, then headed back to Rachel's room, to find that the other girl didn't dress quite as fast as she did. She quickly covered her eyes and turned around. "Sorry!"

She heard laughter from behind her. "They're just tits, Max. It's not the end of the world."

"I still should have knocked."

Rachel grabbed her by the wrists, then slowly spun her around. "You have got to quit being so nervous around me. You think Chloe hasn't seen the goods? Open your eyes."

She did so, and discovered that Rachel had already put on a shirt. The other girl laughed. "You worry too much."

Max chuckled nervously as well. "I can never tell if you're actually flirting with me or just joking."

"That's part of being friends with me. You get to solve a new mystery every day." She patted her cheek. "Come on. Let's go see Chloe."

* * *

They arrived at the Price residence a short while later. The garage door was open, and they saw David Madsen hunched over the engine of his car. As they approached, he stood up straight and turned around, eyeing them suspiciously.

"Well, now there's two of them," he said. "At least you're not taking fashion tips from Chloe."

"Good morning, Mr. Madsen," Rachel said with a disarming sweetness. "Max is trying out a new look, true, but she's always had her own style." She leaned to the side, looking at the car behind him. "Is it the fan belt again?"

David shook his head. "Carburetor. Joyce thinks I should just put a fuel injector in there and be done with it, but…"

"I understand. Classic cars aren't quite the same if you fill them with too much modern technology." She turned to Max. "Just like cameras, wouldn't you say?"

"Uh, right," said Max. "I use a vintage instant camera," she said, producing it from her bag. "All those smartphone filters can't really replace that classic feel."

"Heh. Guess you're not like these other kids, huh?"

"There's nothing wrong with embracing innovation," said Rachel. "I doubt you were anything like your parents. But it doesn't hurt to have an appreciation for the classics either."

He laughed. "All right, you've flattered an old man enough. Chloe's waiting for you inside."

"Thank you so much, Mr. Madsen. Good luck with the carburetor." With that, they walked past him, to the front door. Max stared at her in awe.

"How'd you learn to handle David so well?"

"Men like him want two things," she said, opening the door and walking inside. "Respect, and knowing that they still matter despite the world not being like they remember it. Play to their nostalgia and you'll have them too busy thinking about their glory days to hate you for being young."

"That's good advice."

She smiled. "Years of experience."

"There you are," said Chloe, peeking her head from around the corner at the end of the hallway that led past the kitchen. She narrowed her eyes. "Is she wearing your clothes?"

Max nodded. "Bar smell."

"Ah. For a minute I thought you two fucked."

She tripped, faceplanting on the floor. Rachel knelt down immediately to help her up, while Chloe just stood there with her arms crossed. "Wow. You know, normally I say a joke won't kill you, but it looks like I should be more careful."

"Chloe!"

"What? I'm hilarious."

"I'm fine," said Max, standing up and clutching her chin. "Mostly. But for your information, nothing happened."

"Didn't think it did, Max. You're too chickenshit for that."

Rachel stared at her, hands on her hips. "And what about me? You really think I wouldn't take advantage of the young, naïve Maxine Caulfield when I have her all alone, at my mercy?"

Narrowing her eyes, Chloe stared off against the other girl, before eventually she chuckled. "Yeah I get it; you can make jokes too."

She smiled and pointed. "I almost had you."

"In your dreams."

The three of them moved to the table and sat down. Chloe had her back to the wall adjoining the fireplace, while Max and Rachel sat next to each other on the opposite side.

"One thing did happen, though," said Rachel, grinning mischievously. "She did walk in on me while I was topless."

"Big deal. I'd be more shocked if you saw hers. Max still changes under her shirt."

"I haven't done that since seventh grade."

"Oh yeah? Let's see 'em now, then."

Max covered her chest with her arms and turned her torso away. "No!"

"See? Chickenshit."

"If we could grow up for five minutes…" groaned Rachel.

"Sorry. She makes it so easy to mess with her."

"We have something to tell you," she continued. "Something that surprised us both last night."

"Hey, no fair saying that after I already joked about you screwing."

"Shouldn't have jumped the gun. It has to do with Max's powers."

"Really? What'd you find out?"

Max set her hands down on the table, looking at her seriously. "Rachel is immune to them."

She blinked. "What? You're sure?"

"How do you think I really knew what you were going to do last night?" said Rachel. "I saw her rewind time. And it didn't affect me."

"Oh yeah? Tell me what I'm about to say."

"That you think Max's outfit would look better on your floor."

"Fuck! Only she was supposed to remember that."

Rachel laughed. "I told you."

"Well, shit. Now I feel even more left out."

"Chloe…" Max enveloped her hand in both of hers. "You're still super important to me. To both of us. In the other timeline, you were the one who encouraged me to push the limits of my powers, the one who believed in me even when no one else did. And you're a way bigger badass than I am."

"True."

"I still don't know exactly what's happening to me, or why I seem to be at the center of all this," added Rachel. "But I also don't know anybody I'd rather have at my side than you two."

Chloe threw her hands up. "Alright, alright, enough with the mushy crap. What's our plan?"

"The way I see it, we have two major objectives." Rachel held up a finger. "First, we need to expose what Nathan and Mr. Jefferson have been doing. To do that, we need people we can count on. You've already met Sam, and I know you're not going to like this, but David is ex-military. If we get into trouble, he could help keep us safe."

"As if. I'd rather masturbate with a chainsaw."

"You are oddly sexual today, you know that?"

"Bite me. No boys allowed."

Rachel shrugged. "Have it your way. We also need eyewitnesses. They didn't get me in this world, thank God, but Kate Marsh is apparently one of Nathan and Mr. Jefferson's victims. She's been depressed and withdrawn recently, and the whole school has been bullying her over that video. Max says it's because Nathan drugged her, then took her to the Dark Room."

"Shit. I know Kate, she's cool. When I get my hands on those motherfuckers…"

"Just be careful, Chloe," said Max. "I've already seen Mr. Jefferson shoot you in the head once. I'd rather not go through that again."

She put her hand over hers. "Don't worry, Max. Between the three of us and that kick-ass friend of Rachel's, I'd say we've got this covered."

"Speaking of Sam, she said she'll be texting me when her grandfather is able to meet. That's our second order of business. You two want to come along?"

Chloe arched an eyebrow. "You even need to ask?"

"I guess not. Glad I can count on you."

"I did some googling last night," she said. "Ended up on a Wikipedia page for something called Animism. It's when people die and their ghosts turn into animals or something."

"That's not even close to what it is," Rachel said with a chuckle. "It's the belief that all living things, even plants and rocks, have a soul. It's a commonly held belief among a number of pagan and indigenous groups. It's bigger than just one culture or religion, and a lot of indigenous peoples don't even have a word for it in their language because it's so ingrained."

Chloe reared back. "How the fuck do you know that?"

"I'm the straight A student, remember?"

"Yeah, yeah, show off." She leaned forward. "Anyway, I was trying to figure out if there's any science that could explain what's happening with you."

"And?"

"It's beyond my powers of googling. Might need to go to an actual library."

"Or meet with a living expert. Joseph Black Elk knows Arcadia Bay better than anyone. I know he can help us. Plus, he hates the Prescotts."

"He must if he's crazy enough to bomb Sean Prescott's pet construction project. Could be useful against Nathan."

"Chloe, we're just meeting him for information," said Max. "I don't know about you, but I don't want to get involved with eco-terrorists. This whole thing is dangerous enough as it is."

"Fine. Let's Nancy Drew this shit up."

Rachel smiled. "That's the spirit. But we don't have to get started right this second. I have something special planned for today. To make up for last night being a total drag."

She raised an eyebrow. "Oh yeah?"

"All I can tell you right now is to keep an open mind." Her smile grew wider. "But I promise you ladies are in for a treat."

"Hell yeah, then. All for one, and one for fucking all."

"You said it."


	5. Alas Poor Yorick

**Chapter Five  
** Alas Poor Yorick

"Well, at least it's not another bar."

"Are you going to make snide remarks at every venue I choose?" Rachel asked playfully as they walked towards the nondescript building with the words "Arcadia Bay Center for the Performing Arts" emblazoned above the doors.

"You know me. I'll die if I don't make one every ten minutes."

She laughed, and the three of them passed through the tinted glass doors into a building that hadn't been re-carpeted since the late seventies. The place smelled like stale drywall and old paint, and the walls were bleached a distracting shade of white. It reminded Max of a church her parents had once taken her to, one small enough that it didn't have any facilities of its own and had to rent them instead.

"Have you ever done improv, Max?"

"Not really."

"Well, it's easy. You just have to become someone else and think on your feet. You and Chloe are good at that anyway. It's a great way to exercise your creativity and meet new people, and it's a lot of fun."

Max chuckled. "When you put it that way, it does sound like a good time."

"I knew you'd see it my way. As they say, all the world's a stage. Acting lets you become part of the moment, instead of just capturing it."

"I'd still rather hang out at the junkyard or the lighthouse," said Chloe. "I don't like being around this many Blackwell peeps."

By this time they had reached the auditorium, and saw roughly half a dozen other people hanging out by the stage. Max recognized them all: Dana, Hayden, Stella, Juliet, Alyssa, and Warren. Even Victoria had shown up.

From what Rachel had explained, this was a weekly improv group that met every Saturday, both to hang out and to sharpen their acting skills. It was heavy on Vortex Club members, but was open to anybody. As if people would dare to question who Rachel Amber hung out with.

"Relax," she said. "You're a girl who can talk her way through any situation. You're hella fast with smart remarks, and you know how to bullshit like nobody's business. You have the skills to be awesome at this. You just gotta let go."

"Yeah, whatever. I'm just glad Nathan didn't show up. After what he almost did to you I'm liable to shoot on sight."

"We have to play it smarter than that," said Max. "If we go after him without any evidence, it'll be that much easier for him to play the victim. And ultimately, he's just being used by Mr. Jefferson."

"I know, Max. I'm just being dramatic. This is the place for that, right?"

Rachel laughed. "You're not wrong."

"Rachel!" A girl wearing a tan beanie and a gold necklace with a dragon-shaped pendant ran down from the technical booth to meet them. "It's good to see you. Hi, Chloe."

"Hey."

"Good to see you too, Steph."

The girl turned to face Max and extended her hand. "I don't think we've been introduced."

"No, but I've seen you around," she replied. "I'm Max Caulfield. I was friends with Chloe growing up."

"Steph Gingrich, queen of the nerds. I graduated from Blackwell earlier this year."

"That's cool. What do you do now?"

"I got a job here as a tech. I'm also the one who opens this place up every week and makes sure these hooligans don't break anything. When there's a production going on here I usually run lights and sound, but I'll be getting on stage today. Helps me practice my GM skills."

Max tilted her head to the side. "GM?"

"Steph runs a tabletop game," explained Chloe. "GM means Game Master. I've played with her before; it's fun."

"Oh!" Max suddenly remembered where she had heard Steph's name before. "I guess improv skills really would help in an RPG."

"You should come play sometime. I'd love to get to know you better."

She scratched the back of her head and nodded. "I'd love to. I'm sure Chloe and Rachel would be interested too."

Chloe shrugged. "If we're not too busy with other stuff. But yeah, always a pleasure to kick back, eat pizza, and slaughter some orcs."

"Sounds like a plan. I'll see you girls up there." Steph moved back to the tech booth, and the three of them continued heading towards the stage.

"Yo, Rachel!" Dana shouted from where she was sitting on top of one of the backrest of one of the chairs, resting her feet on the part that folded down. "Glad you could make it. And hi Max!"

Max waved. "Hi."

"Max!" Warren Graham moved closer, sliding his hand over his hair in a move that probably looked smoother in his head. "I wasn't expecting to see you here. Didn't think you went in for all this drama stuff."

"I didn't think you did either," she replied, giggling. "How'd you get into it?"

"I invited him," said Rachel. "I caught him doing the soliloquy from _Hamlet_ with the skeleton in Ms. Grant's chem lab. Asked him if he wanted to practice those acting chops with a living scene partner."

Warren laughed. "I didn't think anybody was watching. Plus I probably got too many whiffs of the experiment I was doing."

"What were you making?" asked Chloe, arms crossed. "It's hard to get high when your stash gets flushed. I could do with some tips."

"Nothing that would be safe, or even give you that much of a high," he said. "I was mostly just bored, and I thought I was alone."

"Fine. Be that way."

"Well, I'm ready to get started if all of you are," said Rachel, projecting her voice a bit. "Should we do warmups?"

"Warmups are for the weak," said Victoria, sitting down with one leg planted on her chair, her arm resting menacingly on her knee. "I'm good to start acting. Are you?"

She smiled with her mouth, but not her eyes. "Of course, Victoria. Ready when you are."

* * *

"We call this first game the Backwards Interview," Steph announced from the stage. "The audience suggests a topic, and the first line in the scene is the last in the interview. Our intrepid performers then work backwards from there until they reach the beginning. To demonstrate, I'll need a volunteer."

No one responded.

"Okay then. Eenie, meenie, minie… Max."

She blinked, pressing a hand to her chest. "Me?"

"Yes you, silly. Don't worry, it's not that hard. Get on up here."

Max stood and did as she was told, and the two of them sat in the chairs that rested on the stage. Max on the left, Steph on the right.

"Now, let's hear from the audience."

"Legal weed!" shouted Hayden.

"Celebrity nip slip!" Dana yelled.

Warren cupped his hands over his mouth. "Climate change!"

The rest of the group shouted out a number of suggestions, before Chloe yelled out louder than the rest: "Santa Claus busted for drug smuggling!"

They all stared at her, blinking in surprise. She shrugged. "What? How else do you think he affords free toys for every kid in the world? It's all a front."

Steph nodded. "Dark, but interesting. You must have had a lot of coal in your stocking."

"Ha."

"Well then, let's begin." She turned to Max and mimed holding a microphone. "Thank you, Rudolph, for that enlightening report. We hope that next year it will still be a Merry Christmas."

Max stared out at the audience, like a deer mesmerized by the biggest headlights she'd ever seen. Chloe and Rachel were staring back at her excitedly, Warren was silently cheering her, and Victoria was just _waiting_ for her to fuck up.

' _Backwards, huh? I can do backwards._ '

"Well, I wasn't exactly born with a nose this red."

Laughter erupted from the group, and Steph smiled as she responded. "That's certainly shocking to hear. Keeping you hooked on the very drugs he ran instead of paying you a living wage."

"Forget about escaping," she said. "Even if we somehow got out of the compound, it was the North Pole. And he used a different kind of snow to entice us to stay."

"It sounds like he ran a tight operation."

"It was the Colombians who got to him first. They mailed the drugs with letters from their kids, asking for a pony or a dollhouse. No mailman would dare open a package addressed to Santa."

Steph smiled wryly, leaning in closer. "How did all of this come about?"

"Glad to be here. This is my first public appearance since, you know, the rehab."

"And I'm joined tonight by a special guest, Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer. Welcome, Rudolph."

The others applauded, including Victoria. Steph grabbed her hand and stood up, and both of them took a bow.

"That," said Rachel, "was kind of fucked up. But hilarious. I'd say we're off to a good start."

Victoria shrugged. "It didn't suck. Good job, Max."

She smiled, stepping down from the stage and back into her seat. "Thanks, Victoria."

"We're just getting started. Let's see if you can keep up."

* * *

After a few rounds with the rest of the group, Dana took the stage. "Alright sluts, it's time for a new game. This one is all in the name. It's called 'Sex with me is like…' where you begin a sentence like that, and finish it however you want. Don't need to worry about Mr. Keaton bursting a blood vessel in here."

"My kinda game," said Hayden, currently slumped so far in his chair that his upper back was where his butt should be. "Are we going in alphabetical order or something?"

"No, but I'm first," she replied. "Sex with me is like… a hidden treasure. The less people know about it, the more precious it is."

"And any idiot can find it on a map," sniped Victoria. "X marks the spot."

Dana smirked. "Looks like we've got our next volunteer. Go on, Victoria: tell us what everybody's dying to know."

"About moi?" She splayed all five fingers over the center of her chest, palm curved upward. "Sex with me is like Vegas. Whatever happens there, stays there."

"Ooh, classy," said Chloe. "I assume the house always wins when you're involved?"

"Is that a compliment, Chloe Price?"

"Only if you think me saying you leave people feeling cheated and empty inside is a compliment."

"It's not much of an insult."

"Give it time. It'll eat at you."

"And what about you? What's it like to get an STD from your skanky ass?"

She grinned. "Sex with me is like a fist." She curled her fingers inward and pushed it through a hole that she formed with her other hand. "The one I'll shove up your preppy rich-girl butthole."

"Kinky. But not very creative."

"Blow me."

Dana cringed in the silence that followed. "Anybody else?"

Warren raised his hand. "Sex with me is like energy. Take some mass, add in a little acceleration, then square it all up."

"That has got to be the lamest science pun I've ever heard," said Steph. "And people wonder why I'm not straight."

"Ouch," said Hayden. "Sex with me is like…"

"Weed?" Chloe guessed.

"No. It's like morning mist. Fleeting, but special all the same."

"So you only last three minutes. Good to know."

"You're lucky I'm a lover not a fighter, Price."

"Yeah, whatever would I do if you started slinging poetry at me?"

"Enough of this," said Stella. "What about you, Rachel? Everybody's dying to know."

"Sex with me," said Rachel, "is like the first time you realize your parents didn't tell you everything about the world. When you learn how much is still out there for you to explore. Your life is never the same after that."

No one offered a witty remark. Not even Victoria.

"Wow," said Dana. "I envy whatever boy is lucky enough to experience that."

Rachel only smiled.

"Can we play something else now?" asked Alyssa. "This game is boring."

Everyone agreed, their voices overlapping in one indistinct murmur.

* * *

After working their way through a few more exercises, they broke for lunch. Victoria had called in catering from a place that made fifteen foot long sub sandwiches, of which she'd ordered three. They all dug in, gathering into their own little groups. Max sat with Chloe and Rachel, and Warren had invited himself to their party. Stella, Alyssa, and Juliet formed another group, while Dana, Hayden, and Victoria sat in the far corner.

Steph finished piling everything on her plate and walked over to them.

"Room for one more?"

"Of course," said Max. "The more the merrier."

"Wicked burn earlier," Warren told her as she sat down. "I'll admit, it wasn't the best science joke I've ever told."

Chloe scoffed. "You even have any good ones?"

"Well, there's the one where a scientist walks into a bar and orders H20, then his friend—"

"Orders hydrogen peroxide and dies. Everybody knows that one."

"I didn't," said Max.

"That's 'cause you're a photo geek, not a chemistry nerd. I'm like Walter White up in this bitch."

"I saw your report card. You failed chemistry."

"Doesn't mean I don't know it. I just didn't learn it in a classroom."

"Okay then," said Steph. "Let's hear your best science joke."

Chloe popped her neck and smirked. "Alright. What did the jazz musician get after his girlfriend PMSed and oxidized all his instruments?"

"What?"

"A rusty trombone."

Max's face scrunched up as she comprehended the punchline. "Gross."

"But epic," said Warren, high-fiving her. "Well done."

"I aim to please."

"Good one," Steph conceded. "It's nice hanging out with you again. Haven't seen much of you since you got kicked out of Blackwell."

"Yeah, well I couldn't stand that hellhole. I can barely tolerate the people who go there, present company excluded. How's Mikey doing these days?"

"Still part of my game group. He took it kind of hard when Drew went off to college, but he's really come into his own. Even started hitting the weight room."

"Buff _and_ brainy. Sounds like a catch."

"You offering?"

"I doubt I could handle that much raw manliness."

Max shook her head. "You're ridiculous, Chloe."

"And you're a total nerd. You and Steph really should hang out. You've got a lot in common."

"Are you trying to set us up?"

"You never know. Those roleplaying skills could come in all kinds of handy."

"Chloe," said Rachel, gesturing to Steph's now blushing face. "I think that's far enough."

She threw her hands up and stood. "Okay. Forget I said anything. I'm gonna go see if Hayden's carrying."

Rachel rolled her eyes.

* * *

"So then I told her: if your parents had to go into that much debt to buy you a car that shitty, maybe you should just get a bicycle so I won't bring down the value my own ride when I run you off the road."

"Holy shit, Victoria," said Dana. "You really tore her head off."

"If a bitch lives in a glass house, maybe she shouldn't throw stones from a discount car lot."

"Damn, you are _crazy_ ," said Hayden, who was currently reclining on the floor, propping himself up with one elbow. "Did she cry?"

"What do you think? Anyway, she keyed her own car and tried to blame it on me, but Nathan was hanging in the parking lot and got it on video. She fucked herself over. It's sad, really."

"Yeah, a tragedy for the ages," said Chloe, walking up from behind her. She looked at Hayden. "So does somebody have to be Vortex to bum some weed from you, or does your love of getting high truly conquer all?"

He shrugged. "Sorry, Chloe. Not carrying at the moment. You should sit down, though. Hang with us."

"If you don't have grass, afraid I gotta pass."

"Why are you so desperate for pot anyway?" asked Victoria. "You shove it all up your ass already?"

She crossed her arms. "No, step-douche flushed it all into the sewer, and now the rats have the munchies. They might even sneak into the homes of rich preppy girls who have little handmaidens to wipe their ass for them. Where are your bitches, anyway?"

"Taylor's off visiting her mom in the hospital, and Courtney had a family barbeque to attend. They don't usually come to this thing anyway."

"Then why do you?"

She shrugged. "I have a thing for the performing arts."

"That so?"

"Save it. You're only here because you follow Rachel around like a sad puppy. I wonder when you'll grow up and realize she's only stringing you along because you'll do anything for her, no questions asked."

"Hey, fuck off. You've always been jealous of her."

Victoria rolled her eyes. "I don't know where you get your delusions." She reached into her purse, pulling out a small plastic bag. "You want a little something? Here. Have fun."

Retrieving it from her hands, Chloe brought the bag close to her face and inspected it. "This won't have me on the toilet all night, will it?"

"Depends on you. Don't say I never did anything for you."

Chloe shrugged. "Okay. Thanks, I guess."

"Don't mention it."

* * *

"Okay, everybody," said Victoria, pacing back and forth on the stage after lunch was over. "For our next game, we're going to play something a little different. This one's called Funeral Service."

She paused for effect, and was met with silence.

"Here's how it works: as you can see, we've set up a table and some chairs. I'll lie down on the table and pretend to be dead, while you come up here one by one and make up stories about how I died. Then I have to act them out." Her smile turned devilish. "Don't be shy."

Stella raised her hand. "Is this your way of seeing which of us are psychopaths?"

"Let's just say I'm trying to get into the Halloween spirit. Why don't you go first?"

Shrugging, the other girl took the stage while Victoria lay down on the table, folding her hands over her chest like Sleeping Beauty.

"We're gathered here today to remember Victoria Maribeth Chase," Stella began in an eerily calm tone. "She was living out one of her many dreams of being on a fashion runway, when tragedy struck. Her heel broke and she plunged face first into the crowd, breaking her neck. She will be sorely missed."

Victoria stood, sending a sidelong glance her way. Walking to the back of the stage, she began to strut like she was walking a runway in Paris. Just as Stella had described, she tripped and lunged forward, the only difference being that she remained on the stage as she fell. She lay there a few moments, then rose to applause.

"Very creative, Stella. Although I'd more likely be photographing the models."

Shrugging, the other girl returned to her seat. Dana got up on stage next, and Victoria lay down again.

"A moment of silence for our dearly departed Victoria," she said, feigning anguish. "For this was no ordinary death. She was found between satin sheets, stained with her own blood, an unopened bottle of wine on the nightstand. Our only clue? A dagger, plunged into her heart."

She began to gesture, chewing scenery at an alarming rate. "An assassin? Or was it a jilted lover? Did she decide to end it all herself? We may never know… but wait! Shortly before her death, her husband opened up a life insurance policy in her name. Did he truly believe he could get away with murder?"

Dana motioned to Hayden, who clambered up on stage and stood over Victoria, his hand raised in the air clutching a nonexistent dagger. He plunged it down, and Victoria sold it with everything she had, expelling the air from her lungs in one long wheeze before falling still. Again, the others clapped.

"Rein in the narration next time, Dana. I know this is drama, but you're being a ham."

"Sorry not sorry, Victoria. I got caught up in the moment."

"Whatever. Next!"

"What the hell," said Chloe, standing up. "I'll give it a shot."

She lay down on the table again, and the blue-haired girl smirked as she took the stage.

"Victoria Chase was a pain in the ass," she began. "But even she didn't deserve this. A few nights ago, she was at a Vortex Club party, watching her little minions frolic, enjoying her drink and soaking up the vibes. But then she felt a little woozy." Chloe mimed examining a drink in her hand. "It couldn't be! But as she fell unconscious she knew… knew it was her last night on this earth."

"Hey, hold the fuck up!" Victoria screeched, and the entire group turned to look at her. "How did you know about that? How?"

"Whoa, chillax V. I just made that up."

"Oh, like hell! I don't know who told you, but—"

Chloe raised an eyebrow. "Why the freakout? My acting can't be that bad."

"I—" She paused, looking at the stunned faces in the audience. "Fuck you!" She ran off the stage, disappearing into the back, towards the bathroom. Chloe stared after her in confusion.

"What'd I say?"

* * *

"Chloe, what the hell happened?" Rachel asked as they found a quiet corner. The rest of the improv group had begun to leave, with none daring to pursue Victoria. "Why'd she freak out like that?"

"I dunno. I was just trying to guilt her over that video she took of Kate."

"You shouldn't joke about that," she said, glaring. "That almost happened to me, remember?"

Chloe frowned. "Yeah, sorry. Still doesn't explain why she went nuclear."

"Oh no," said Max. "I cant believe I forgot."

"What?"

"Victoria was the next victim," she said. "After Kate. In the timeline I came from, Mr. Jefferson grabbed her after the Vortex Club party last Thursday, then he drugged me too. And this time I wasn't even able to warn her about Nathan."

Rachel's eyes widened. "Meaning they got to her already."

"We have to talk to her!"

"I'll do it," said Chloe. "You two hang back."

"No offense Chloe, but you're probably the last person she wants to see right now."

"I know, but... I made this mess. I should be the one to clean it up."

"Not necessarily. I can rewind and stop you from—"

"Don't you dare. You're not my personal problem solver." She paused. "Besides, we need to press her for info one way or another, and this way she's kind of already told us."

Max nodded. "I guess you have a point."

"Relax. I can handle this."

"I hope so."

* * *

If the rest of the building was stuck in the late seventies, the bathroom at least was modern, having apparently undergone a renovation within the last few years. She found Victoria leaning over one of the sinks, propping herself up by her hands and staring at her own reflection as though she wished to escape to a different world. She knew the feeling.

"Here to gloat?"

Chloe shook her head, walking somberly to within five feet of her, but no closer. "No. I'm here to say I'm sorry. That was a hella dick move I pulled."

"God, I forgot how much you sound like each other. Why don't you and Rachel go fuck off to California already?"

Clutching her arm with the other one draped over her chest, she frowned. "Look, I just want you to know that even though I give you shit about basically everything, that doesn't mean I don't care about the real stuff. The way you ran off… I've had moments like that."

"Great." She pushed off the sink, glaring at her as she swayed, shifting her weight between alternating feet. "Now everyone at Blackwell will think I'm just some repeat of you. The sad little girl who lost her daddy and never got over it. Do you have any idea how much pressure I'm under? Like all the time? You know how fucking hard it is to keep it together?"

"Not really. I never bothered hiding my pain," she replied, shrugging. "But I know something bad happened to you. Something you got reminded of when I said all that shit."

Victoria frowned, staring at the floor.

"You know what? It's fine. You don't have to open up to me. But I still think you should talk to someone."

"And who's there to talk to? I'm not about to see a shrink, and I don't trust anybody with this. Especially not you."

"Hide behind your superiority complex all you like, Victoria, but everyone can see you're in pain. Just like everyone could see Kate Marsh after you posted that video of her. If I'm right, the same thing that happened to her, happened to you too."

Victoria looked up and stared at her numbly.

"Look. Rachel, Max, and I are trying to stop the people behind this. If you tell me what you remember, you could keep it from happening to anybody ever again."

"Really? And how are a photo geek, a rebel without a cause, and little miss perfect going to help? You can't go to the police with this shit, trust me."

"Just tell me who drugged you. Was it Nathan?"

She buried her head in her hands. "I don't know. It's all a fucking blur. I just know one minute I was at the Vortex Club party, Mark announced that I'd won the Everyday Heroes contest, and then…"

"And then?"

Her eyes burned into her as Victoria ground her teeth so hard it registered on the Richter scale. "Then I remembered you should mind your own fucking business."

"Too late for that. You actually got me to care about you."

Victoria let out a spiteful laugh, shaking her head as she crossed her arms over her chest. "You don't let up. I admire that. Fine, Price. But you don't breathe a word of this to anybody. Not the cops, not the Principal, and definitely not to Mark or Nathan."

"Your secret is safe with me. But I might have to tell Max and Rachel."

"Whatever. Just make sure their lips stay sealed too."

"I promise."

She stared past her, at the floor. "I remember feeling dizzy after I had my third drink. Nathan took me to his car, then I blacked out. Next thing I know I heard someone talking to me in a soft voice, but it was muffled, like I had cotton in my ears. I was in a white room. Maybe a hospital. Then I felt a sharp pain in my neck, and the next morning I was at the airport, getting on a flight to San Francisco with Mark. That's all I remember, I swear."

Chloe frowned. "Fuck. They did get you."

"Did that really happen to Kate too? And I…" She covered her mouth and bent over, starting to cry. "What did I do?"

"It's okay," she said, reaching forward and embracing the sobbing girl. "Just pretend I'm someone else. Let it all out."

"You shouldn't smoke that weed," she said, sniffling. "It _is_ cut with laxative."

"I figured."

"This doesn't make us friends."

"I know, Victoria." She continued hugging her as the tears fell. "I know."


	6. The Road Not Taken

**Chapter Six  
** The Road Not Taken

Monday had come, and Max woke up in her dorm to the sounds of the radio. She rose groggily and rubbed her eyes, blinking a few times to clarify her vision. Her room was just as she had left it, albeit less cluttered than when she had pulled a frantic all-nighter trying to figure out the source of her power. She'd already solved that mystery.

Rachel Amber was alive. Moreover, they were friends. The reality of that was only just starting to hit her, and her subconscious mind couldn't stop searching for little imperfections that would ultimately ruin this timeline and send her scrambling to rearrange time and space into the most ideal version of events. But so far there was no downside, at least not one that she could see.

Was it right to use her powers this way? To bring the dead back to life, like none of it ever happened, with her the only one who remembered? If it _was_ wrong, then why did she have these powers in the first place? And why was Rachel immune to them?

Shaking her head to clear it, she got dressed and ventured out into the hallway, where Victoria's door remained ominously closed. Chloe had shared the basic facts of her breakdown, but not the specific details. Still, Max had seen enough in the other timeline to know that Victoria had been through hell, even if she didn't remember most of it. She wasn't about to go dredging that back up.

She knocked on Kate's door, and received no answer. She would need to talk to her soon, but Max wasn't sure how much to reveal. It wasn't that she didn't trust Kate to keep a secret; she just couldn't figure out how the other girl would find a way to get through Mr. Jefferson's class if she knew. She could barely stand to do so herself, and she remembered _much_ more than Kate did.

At least Kate hadn't tried to jump in this timeline. From what Rachel told her, Max had seen the signs in this timeline, just like before, and with Rachel's influence the bullies had backed off. Kate still had the trauma of her ordeal to process, but at least she knew that she had friends who cared about her.

But in order to not raise suspicions, everything had to appear normal, which meant they couldn't antagonize Nathan or Mr. Jefferson. She had to pretend like she had no idea what they'd done; like he was still her favorite teacher. It was like a tapestry of yarn wrapped too tight around her brain, squeezing too hard for her to entirely relax.

She walked down the hall, down the stairs, and outside the dorm, where she saw Samuel sitting on a bench, feeding the birds and squirrels. Rachel was sitting next to him.

"Uh, good morning," she said, walking up from behind them. She moved around to the front, and they both smiled at her. "How are the squirrels today?"

"They're afraid," Samuel replied, his voice thin and reedy as usual. She reminded herself that he was strange and a bit creepy, but ultimately innocent in all this, so far as she knew. "Strange tidings gather in the distance, their objective unknown even to them. Something has confused them."

She narrowed one eye, staring at him in bewilderment.

"He's been like this all morning," said Rachel. "You just love to be mysterious, don't you Samuel?"

"A mystery only exists when some of the facts are missing or out of context," he replied. "But you don't have to listen to old Samuel. I just translate what the animals are feeling. I don't understand it all myself."

She patted him on the shoulder. "That's alright. We still like you. And you've already helped me a lot this morning. Max and I have to get to class now, but I'll see you later, okay?"

"Take care, Rachel. You too, young Max."

"We will," said Max. "See you later."

Rachel stood and they walked across the quad, towards the main courtyard.

"What was Samuel helping you with?"

"I'm sure you've noticed, but he's tapped into nature more than a lot of people here," she replied. "If the same is true of me, then it's no wonder we get along. I asked him for his thoughts on the matter, but all he was really able to tell me is that the universe isn't sure what to do with me yet. I can understand that."

She nodded. "I don't know what it wants with me either. I still have no idea why I was the one who got these powers. Why was I chosen?"

"Maybe you weren't."

"Huh?"

"Nevermind."

She squinted as she remembered something. "You said we both had to get to class. Are you in English Lit with me?"

"Not technically, but I don't have anything first period. I'd be happy to sit in."

"Be my guest. Just be careful. I think Nathan's in that class."

She smirked. "Then he better watch out."

* * *

"I just realized something," Max said as they walked through the main courtyard. "On Saturday Steph told me she graduated earlier this year, and Chloe would have too if she didn't get expelled two years ago. You're the same age as them. Why are you still at Blackwell?"

"Nothing gets by you, does it, Max?" Rachel shrugged. "Honestly, I was going through some shit earlier this year. Right around the time you called Chloe. It got bad enough that I asked the school if I could take a leave of absence for the semester. And since Blackwell doesn't have a summer school program, I have to make up the classes this year."

She frowned. "What was so bad that you couldn't be in school?"

"That's just what I told Principal Wells. The truth is, Chloe and I were planning on leaving, but… I needed more time. A few months earlier I met someone new, someone who made a big difference in my life. I never told Chloe about us."

"You mean Frank Bowers?"

Rachel stumbled, but saved herself by transitioning it into a brisk jog "How the hell do you know about… right. Time travel."

"I understand not wanting to tell Chloe. She took it pretty hard in the other timeline. That's what our big argument was about, the one that ended with me trying to save her father."

"Well like I said, it was complicated. Chloe and I borrowed money from him, and I didn't want to leave him high and dry when we bailed on Arcadia Bay. I was hoping I could get him to come to Los Angeles with us." She frowned. "But then we had a big blowout, and he scared the hell out of me. More than once. So I left him and we kept the cash. Been avoiding him ever since."

"Was that the only reason you didn't want to be in school? Chloe and I found letters in Principal Wells' office saying David and Nathan reported you for bringing drugs on campus."

"You _are_ thorough. They were Nathan's drugs. He planted them in my bag for some reason, then narced on me. I'm still not sure why."

"How long before that had you and Frank broken up? He might have wanted to get back at you."

Rachel shook her head. "Frank doesn't deal with shit that way. Besides, he knew damn well he was the one who fucked up. There had to be a different motive."

"How are you so sure it was Nathan who planted them? David was following you and Frank around, snapping pictures. He could have planted them just so he'd have an excuse to keep you away from Chloe. Apparently you were a 'bad influence' on her."

"You could be right. Obviously didn't pan out that way. Besides, you saw yourself: David and I get along now."

"I guess that's one good thing. Are you ever gonna pay Frank back?"

"That depends on whether I'm ever able to leave this godforsaken place. Every time I think it's finally the day, something keeps drawing me back here. Always thought it was just me being a coward. But it could be something else. Maybe I'm not supposed to leave."

"We'll figure it out. I'd love to see LA too."

"Here's hoping there's a future, then. For all of us."

* * *

"Nice turnout," Rachel whispered once they had taken their seats. Aside from them, the only students in the classroom were Alyssa, Juliet, Daniel, Trevor, and Brooke. "Is Ms. Hoida always this popular?"

"She's been gone a few weeks," she answered. "Chloe and I found a note in Principal Wells' office in the other timeline that said she left after Nathan made some kind of outburst in her class. Then we got told she had some sort of depression. But she emailed us our reading assignment over the weekend, and she should be back today."

"I'd need a break too if I had to deal with too many of Nathan's freak-outs." She closed her eyes, shaking her head as she tapped her fingers against the desk. "I know I should hate him after what he almost did to me, but… I kinda feel sorry for him. Nobody's given him the help he needs."

"I feel that way too. I just hope he doesn't show up today."

She nodded towards the door. "So much for that."

Nathan Prescott entered the room wearing a neutral expression, sparing a glance to everybody in the room, then sat down and started texting, resting his feet on top of the desk. Max and Rachel exchanged a glance, but neither initiated contact with him.

"Good morning, class." Bernadette Hoida walked through the door behind him, then to the front of the classroom. She was middle-aged, her originally black, curly hair beginning to turn grey. She adjusted her large, thick-rimmed glasses and looked over the class. "I'm sure you all enjoyed your vacation from having to put up with the words of dead Englishmen."

A general murmur spread throughout the classroom. Nathan still hadn't put his phone away, but she didn't even acknowledge it.

"Today we're going to pick up where we left off. As I told you all by email last Friday, your assignment for today was to read Robert Frost's classic poem, _The Road Not Taken_ , and be ready with your analysis. I assume everybody did so?"

Rachel didn't have to raise her hand, since she wasn't enrolled in this class, but the rest of them did, save for Nathan, who was still texting.

"Very good. It's said _The Road Not Taken_ is Frost's most famous work, and his most misunderstood. Anybody care to tell me why?"

Trevor raised his hand. "Because it's usually read by high school students who skim it five minutes before class?"

Everyone laughed.

"I appreciate your candor, Trevor, but no. Can anybody give me a serious answer?"

"I was serious…" he muttered.

"I guess it's about breaking away from the pack," said Juliet. "Being a trailblazer. The narrator took the less beaten path, and in the last stanza he says he'll be telling this story with a sigh one day. It's saying we should go down the road that most people don't have the guts to."

"An interesting analysis, but that's exactly the misunderstanding I mentioned. Who's to say the sigh is a happy one? Or that nobody else went down that path? The poem only mentions it being less worn, not that he forged a new path altogether. Good effort, though."

Juliet scowled and crossed her arms, leaning back in her chair.

"Anyone else?"

"It's not about liking or disliking the path he chose," said Max. "The narrator is just regretting how he'll never know what would have happened if he went down the other one."

Ms. Hoida smiled. "Precisely, Max. I'm glad at least one of you came to that conclusion."

In truth, she hadn't read the poem before last night. But it resonated with her greatly after everything she'd been through. Alyssa had even quoted it to her at the Vortex Club party, back when everything she thought she knew about time and space was so much simpler.

"The poem was purportedly inspired by Robert Frost's close friend Edward Thomas, a fellow writer, and may have been the deciding factor in Thomas' decision to enlist in World War I. Frost once described Thomas as 'a person who, whichever road he went, would be sorry he didn't go the other.' Edward Thomas died two years later in the Battle of Arras. Sadly, nobody was present to ask what he thought of where his choice had led him."

Max raised her hand. "What if you could go back? Take the other path instead?"

"An interesting question. I suppose at some point you'd start to wonder what would happen if you'd gone further down the first one. You can't follow both paths to their end. And that begs another question: if you did go down the other path, would you still be you? Or would you be a different person, asking yourself a different set of questions?"

She frowned, but understood, shrinking back into her chair.

"Does anybody else have any insights they'd like to share?"

The room was silent. Nathan had put the phone away and was now staring at the ceiling, leaning back in his chair so that only the two back legs touched the floor. The other students sent an occasional glance his way, but none dared to call him out. Max and Rachel met eyes, but stayed quiet as well. Ms. Hoida didn't even look his way.

"Well I say it's not worth wasting time thinking about what might have been," said Brooke. "Everything happens for a reason."

"Not really." The class turned to look at Rachel. "That's counter to what the poem is saying."

"And how's that?"

"Life is… chaos," she said. "Things just happen, and sometimes it doesn't make any sense. There is no greater destiny at work. People are hard-wired to search for patterns, so to justify the paths we take, we make up stories about how something that happened when we were twelve made us who we are today. It's easier than accepting that most of what happens to us is random."

"Very well said, Rachel. It's human nature to question the choices we make, and to assign overdue importance to minor events, as though our lives exist to fulfill a narrative. The choice the narrator made to go down one path or the other matters little in the end; he'd have found something to lament over either way."

"But events do still lead to one another," said Max. "Like in chaos theory. Even the smallest, most random event, like a butterfly flapping its wings, can have huge consequences later on."

Rachel shook her head. "That's not the same as saying everything that happens was meant to be."

Frowning, she reclined back in her chair and said nothing.

"Let's move on," said Ms. Hoida. "I understand you didn't have any homework for the month that I was gone, so it's time to make up for that."

The entire class groaned.

"I know, I know. Your next assignment is to read one of the novels from the syllabus over the next week, and tell the class what you thought…"

* * *

"Hey, Rachel!"

They had left the classroom and were walking down the hall. They turned around and saw Nathan Prescott jogging up to them. Max stiffened, then exhaled, releasing the tension. Nathan couldn't know they were on to him. Not yet. Next to her, Rachel didn't even flinch.

"Hi, Nathan."

He arrived next to them, joining them as they continued walking. "Pretty lame class, right?"

"I dunno. I guess if you want to be on your phone the whole time and not pay attention, it can get pretty boring."

"What do I care? My grades are fine no matter what I do."

"That's not the point, Nathan. School is a place for you to get exposed to new ideas, and that could help you later in life. It might not kill you to actually learn something."

Max braced herself for the inevitable tantrum. Next Nathan would say something about how no one could tell him what to do, followed by threats and copious shouting. But that didn't happen.

"Fine, Rachel. Guess you're right. You and Max wanna go get high?"

"Not right now. I've got chemistry next period, and you should really apologize to Ms. Hoida. I heard you're the reason she had to take a leave of absence."

Nathan reared back as though struck. "Where did you hear that?"

"Rumors travel fast. And I know you were on some new meds that day. I get that you feel the need to act out sometimes, but you really shouldn't take out your anger on the faculty. There are better ways to handle your stress."

"Are you analyzing me? I pay people for that shit."

"Just saying what I've seen. You're a better person than you give yourself credit for. Maybe you should start acting like one."

Nathan sighed and shook his head. "Okay. I'll tell her I'm sorry. You're right; the shit I was on that day was fucking with my head."

"If I've inspired you to do one good thing today, I'm glad it was this," she said. "See you later, Nathan."

"See ya."

He broke away, turning down another hallway. As soon as he was a safe distance away, Max let out a breath she didn't know she was holding.

"Holy shit. I didn't think I was gonna make it through that."

"Honestly, I was counting on your rewind power in case I decided to sucker-punch him. In the end I decided to take the high road."

"I guess you're better at this than I thought. If I told him any of that, he'd probably try to stab me."

Rachel shook her head. "Max, from what you told me, the first time you even interacted with Nathan was right after he threatened a certain someone with a gun when she tried to blackmail him, _and_ after you reported him to the Principal. Of course he was gonna hate your guts."

"I never thought of it that way," she admitted, then frowned. "I have to ask you something. Before I caught up to all the… changes I caused, how well did the other me get to know Nathan? Did I ever get approached to join the Vortex Club?"

"With me in your orbit, definitely. But given what you told me about him, I made sure to keep him far enough away that he couldn't do us any harm."

"That's good to know. In the reality where I saved William, he and Victoria were apparently friends with that version of me. Who was a total stoner, by the way."

She laughed. "That must have sent you for a loop."

"No kidding. But I'm glad you're still able to get him to listen to you."

"I have a bit of influence over, well… just about everybody at this school. I'll admit to taking advantage of the way they worship me. But I try to use my powers for good."

"So do I. But you're a better person than I am."

Tilting her head to the side, Rachel frowned slightly. "What do you mean?"

"All I've ever used these powers for is to make myself seem like more of a hero than I really am. The first day I got them, I kept rewinding conversations until I came up with just the right answer to impress everyone I talked to. I saved Chloe because I didn't want to see her die, true, but is that really right? Or just selfish?"

"Max, that's the stupidest thing I've ever heard. Who told you that?"

"Me. Another version of me, at least. Or my own subconscious. Or something else entirely, I'm not sure."

By this time they had passed through the large double doors into the courtyard, and they walked over to a bench near the fountain, where for the moment, they were alone.

"When the tornado finally got here," she continued, "when reality was stretched to its breaking point, I ended up in a nightmare. I found myself in the Two Whales diner, and someone who looked like me and spoke with my voice took me to task over every selfish thing I'd done with my powers. I only got out of there because Chloe showed up somehow."

"Let me ask you something, Max. Would you have figured any of this out if you hadn't gotten those powers?"

"Obviously not. I wouldn't even know the tornado was coming. But nothing I did was able to stop it from happening. Not until we figured out what was really causing it."

"Did you ever stop to ask yourself if maybe stopping the tornado wasn't why you got those powers? That maybe there wasn't a reason at all?"

Max clutched the sides of her head. "But there was a reason! Chloe and I had to figure out what happened to you so I could travel back to before you died and stop any of this from happening."

"Who decided that? God? The universe? Whoever it was that talked to you in that nightmare?" She leaned closer and narrowed her eyes. "Or was it just you?"

"I don't know."

"There's a quote from Carl Jung that I like," she continued. "He was the founder of analytical psychology, but he dabbled in philosophy too. He said, 'As far as we can discern, the sole purpose of human existence is to kindle a light of meaning in the darkness of mere being.'"

Max leaned back. "Where'd you read that?"

"Hey, just because I'm a popular kid doesn't mean I can't be nerdy about a few things. Chloe likes science, you've got photography, and I've spent a lot of time thinking about the meaning of life. It's an actor thing."

"Okay, but what does it mean?"

"It means we're the ones who decide what it's all about," she said. "It means it doesn't fucking matter if you used your powers for selfish reasons, because you did good things with them too. Saving Chloe _was_ the right thing, and fuck any universe that wants to punish you for not letting her die. You saved Kate, too."

"But did I even need those powers to save Kate? Maybe I wouldn't have needed them with Chloe, if I'd stepped out and said something instead of hiding like a coward until it was too late. Can I really call myself a hero if all I've ever done with these powers is rewind over and over until I get the result I want?" She shook her head. "That's why I have to believe it was the tornado. Because otherwise, I'm just an asshole."

"Think about it, Max. If stopping the tornado was the reason you got these powers, wouldn't they have disappeared once you saved me?"

"I guess so. Unless I haven't really fixed anything. What's to say something worse won't happen later on?"

Rachel groaned. "This is what I was trying to tell you in that class. There is no grand fucking conspiracy. Nothing is meant to be. Time isn't a river—it's an ocean. And you can control it. There doesn't have to be a reason. We get to make up our own reasons for what we do."

She nodded, kicking her feet back and forth before resting her heels on the grass. "I guess we'll just have to wait and see."

Rachel's phone buzzed, and she fished it out of her pocket, firing off a quick text in response.

"It's Sam," she said. "She says her grandfather's ready to meet today, after school. We'll meet her at the bar and she'll take us from there."

"Good. We should let Chloe know."

"Way ahead of you." She sent another text, then put the phone away. "When's your next class?"

"Later. It's with Mr. Jefferson."

Rachel held her hand. "Want me to come with?"

"No. I can get through it on my own."

"Well, if you're not completely committed to using your powers for good, you could just let it all out on him and rewind."

Max cracked a smile. "It's like you read my mind."


	7. You Spin Me Right Round

**Chapter Seven  
** You Spin Me Right Round

The Two Whales diner purported to serve the best burgers in Arcadia Bay, but Chloe had always chalked that up to lack of competition. To preserve the small town charm, the town council had a policy of rejecting any attempts by major fast food companies to open up franchises in the area. Rumor was the edict had come from the Prescotts, though no one quite knew why, as they themselves drove small businesses to bankruptcy on almost a monthly basis.

Still, she had to admit: the burgers were damn tasty.

Finishing off her meal with a fistful of fries and a long swig of her drink, Chloe stood and left a nice tip for Maritza, the waitress who was currently running the diner seeing how it was Joyce's day off. Her mom had taken advantage of that opportunity to convince step-crack to stay home for the day as well, and heavily hinted to Chloe that she ought to make herself scarce. As though she wanted to spend another minute in that place.

One would think that Joyce would be more eager to keep Chloe at home after the time she decided to live in a junkyard in response to when David had originally moved in, but maybe her mother really had dealt with enough of her shit for one lifetime.

She was out the door and on her way back to her truck when she spotted the RV. "Aw, fuck."

"You know, there used to be a time when you got excited to see me," said Frank, having somehow snuck up behind her. "No one else out here willing to deal to your punk ass."

Chloe rolled her eyes and let out a heavy sigh, turning slowly around to face him. "Not a good time, Frank."

"There never is a good time to have this conversation," he said. "You owe. Had more than enough time to pay it back."

She started backing away, further from the sidewalk. He kept pace with her, corralling her closer to the RV. "Look man, I don't have the money right now. But if you give me a few days…"

"Don't have the money, huh? That's cute." His scowl deepened. "Only problem is, a buddy of mine saw you and Rachel flashing serious cash at some dive bar out by the casino. Did you even spend the money I loaned you? Seems like a waste to go this long without even using it."

"Needed it for something that didn't pan out," she replied, clasping her hands together behind her back and peering over his shoulder, confirming that they were alone. "But I meant that I don't have it on me."

He shrugged. "Fair enough. You know, I've heard of that bar. Woman who owns it, you meet her?"

"Why do you care?"

"Just curious. I always knew you were crazy, but getting involved with Sam Black Elk? That's a whole new world of loco that you're not ready for."

"Yeah, I know about her grandpa, genius."

"But do you know about her?"

Chloe crossed her arms. "Should I?"

"If it's important, I guess Rachel will tell you before it's too late."

"Didn't expect you to be so concerned."

"I'm not. I just want my money."

"You'll get it, dude. I just need to grab it from Rachel."

Frank nodded. "You got until Thursday. I'll be here, same time. And… bring Rachel, too. Be nice to see her again."

"Can't promise anything, but I'll pass that along."

"Whatever. You can go now."

Without any parting words of her own, Chloe walked away, acting nonchalant just long enough to pull out of the parking lot, by which point her heart was thundering in her ears.

* * *

Rachel knocked softly on the already open door of the science lab, alerting the woman sitting at the desk at the front of the room to her presence. Ms. Grant raised her head and smiled.

"Rachel Amber," she said. "What a pleasant surprise."

Michelle Grant was one of the unsung heroes of Blackwell Academy, which had always been more focused on the Arts than Science. All the Prescott money went to drama, photography, and especially the Vortex Club. But even with the comparatively limited resources at her disposal, most students who passed through her classroom during their time at Blackwell left with, if nothing else, a more fervent desire to question everything around them.

Which was what had brought her back here even though she'd already passed this class.

"Hello, Ms. Grant. I was wondering if you had time to answer a science question."

"I always have time for science," she answered, capping the red marker she was using to grade the assignments as Rachel walked further into the lab. "But shouldn't you be attending your actual classes? I heard you sat in on Ms. Hoida's lecture this morning, even though you already passed her course with flying colors."

Rachel shrugged. "I only had one scheduled for today, and I already went. I'm not neglecting my studies, I promise."

"That's good. I'd hate for you to lose that perfect GPA of yours." She placed her forearms on the desk and leaned forward. "Now what's on your mind?"

"I was wondering what you can tell me about symbiosis." She rubbed her forehead. "Not like the textbook definition or anything, just your thoughts."

Ms. Grant pursed her lips, gripping the tips of the marker with both hands and tilting it back and forth. "Well, all I can really tell you _is_ the textbook definition," she replied. "Symbiosis is when two or more life forms—usually ones inhabiting the same environment—evolve in a way that's mutually beneficial to both of them. Like birds that eat stray bits of meat from a crocodile's mouth, or when a clownfish builds its nest inside an anemone. If either disappeared, it would make the other's life more difficult."

"Is it…" She bit her lower lip and glanced to the side, running a hand through her hair. "Is it possible for something to have that kind of relationship with the environment itself? Not a specific creature, but an actual location? Like a spiritual connection?"

She blinked. "That's a tricky question. Everything in nature is connected to some degree. Every action ripples outward in a web of events too complicated for us to fully comprehend. A butterfly flapping its wings at one end of the world could cause a hurricane on the other."

"And a single spark can start a fire that burns the whole prairie," said Rachel. "I'm familiar with Chaos Theory. That's not what I'm asking."

"Then what _are_ you asking?"

"What if all that probability was wrapped up in the fate of one person?" she elaborated. "Like, if they disappeared, everything else would suddenly get worse? Way worse."

Ms. Grant stared at her for a long time, before slowly moving her eyes down to her desk. "I don't really have a scientific answer for that," she said. "What's got you asking these sorts of questions anyway?"

She sighed. "Nothing. I was just… talking with Samuel earlier. I was hoping you could make sense of what he said."

"Ah, now I get it. Put whatever he said out of your mind. Samuel is in touch with nature, true, but I don't understand half of what comes out of his mouth." She smiled. "He sure can commune with squirrels though."

"It's fine. I have someone else I'm planning to ask. I was just hoping to go into that meeting more informed than I am."

"This someone else have a name?"

Rachel nodded. "Joseph Black Elk."

It was silent for several moments as Ms. Grant's eyes grew visibly wider, and she took a deep breath. "What on God's good earth are you planning to talk to a man like that for?"

Another shrug. "I figure if anybody can answer my questions, it's him."

"You may be right." Her head bobbed up and down almost imperceptibly as she processed that. "But you should consider what those answers might cost you. The Black Elks were cast out from their tribe more than a hundred years ago, right around the time Ezekiel Blackwell's expedition reached this land. Most of the stories I've heard say those two things are related."

Rachel squinted and reared her head back. "Didn't take you for a history buff."

"Oh, please. It's practically impossible not to find Arcadia Bay's history interesting. If I weren't already the science teacher, you can be sure I'd be teaching that."

"There's still time."

She only smirked.

"So the Black Elks were outcasts? Sam never told me that part."

Ms. Grant somehow managed to look more surprised than she already was. "You know Samantha Black Elk?"

Nodding, Rachel crossed her arms and stared out into the hall. "We went to summer camp together as kids, years before my family actually moved here. But we kept in touch. How else do you think I'd be able to arrange a meeting with her grandfather?"

"Knowing you? I can imagine almost anything."

"And what about you? How do you know so much about this?"

"Like I told you, local history is a passion of mine."

"I see." She stared at her for a few moments, arms still crossed, looking down at her through eyes half-lidded. "So how did they get exiled in the first place?"

"Nobody outside their family knows the whole story," Ms. Grant elaborated. "But while most of the various tribes in the area reached trade agreements with the settlers, the Black Elks wanted to drive them out. Something about Arcadia Bay being sacred land."

"That would explain a lot," she muttered, glancing to the side. "Do you at least know what they did?"

"Every account I've heard or read claims it involved some sort of ritual. Chanting, blood sacrifice, that sort of thing. Whether it was meant to bring about a curse or a blessing… well, that's where the story changes depending on who you ask."

She laughed. "Thought a scientist like yourself wouldn't believe in all that mystical crap."

"I believe the Black Elks took it seriously enough that they become a real threat," she replied. "Joseph, though… he took it to a whole new level. Turned it into a crusade, against the Prescott family especially. I really don't think you should be asking him anything." Ms. Grant shrugged. "But we both know I couldn't stop you if I tried."

Silence reigned for several moments as Rachel considered that. "Thank you, Ms. Grant. I actually didn't know a lot of that. It helped me."

"Happy to be of service. Drop by anytime."

"Will do."

With that, she walked out of the science lab and back into the hall.

* * *

Warm autumn light poured through the windows of the photography lab, bathing everything in a warm, golden glow. It was nothing like the harsh, bright white glare of the Dark Room, something Max found especially sinister given that the same man oversaw them both. Fortunately, Mr. Jefferson wasn't present when she entered the room.

Brooke, Stella, and Alyssa had taken their seats, and Taylor sat next to Victoria as usual. Kate was curled up in her corner next to the window, and Max made a beeline for her.

"Hey, Kate."

She looked up, her eyes red and puffy, but otherwise dry. "Hey, Max."

"How are you today?"

"Better," she said. "Thanks for being there for me. You really helped me through a lot."

"Anytime, Kate. I'll always be here for you."

A smile formed on her face, which quickly faded as Kate's eyes fell behind her.

It was then Max noticed that Victoria had snuck up without her noticing. Her normally smug expression had been replaced by a look of somber regret, and Max moved slowly to the side as the other girl moved closer.

"Max, do you mind if I talk to Kate for a bit?"

She crossed her arms. "That depends."

Victoria sighed. "I swear, I'm not here to rub anything in her face. I'm done with all that."

Looking to Kate, Max made an inquisitive expression. Kate turned to Victoria.

"Whatever you have to say to me, you can say it in front of Max."

"I guess that's fair. She already knows what this is about anyway." She turned to Kate directly. "I just wanted to let you know, I took down the video. And I made sure all my friends won't talk shit behind your back anymore. I'm… I'm sorry for doing that to you."

Staring at her, Kate took a moment to process that. "I… thanks, Victoria. That means a lot."

"What I did was messed up," she continued, her head hung low in shame. "I don't expect you to forgive me. That's all I came to say."

She turned around and started walking away, but Kate reached out and grabbed her hand. "Wait."

Victoria looked back over her shoulder.

"I _do_ forgive you, Victoria. I believe in forgiveness. And redemption. It's good that you realized you did something wrong. That's the first step to making it right."

A smile slowly grew on Victoria's face, and Kate returned the gesture. "Thank you. I've never really given you a chance before." She looked at Max. "Either of you. Why don't we plan something together? So I can start making up for… all of this."

Max smiled as well. "That sounds great, Victoria. There's actually something I need to tell you. Both of you. But not here."

"Why not?"

Before she could answer, Mark Jefferson entered the room.

"Good afternoon class," he began, sliding into his 'cool teacher' routine. "Go ahead and find your seats please, and let's get started. How was everybody's weekend?"

He received a general murmur in response, as they began filing into their seats. It took every ounce of Max's willpower to maintain a neutral, vaguely interested expression that wouldn't set off his suspicions. She could still rewind if she tipped her hand, but just looking at him was a test of her endurance. She had witnessed his true self, and now it was impossible to see anything else.

"Today we're going to talk about candid photography," he said, leaning against a desk. "The art of framing subjects without posing them; capturing them in their natural element. Can anyone name the originator of this style?"

Victoria's hand shot up like a lightning bolt. "Dr. Erich Salomon. He did most of his work in Germany during the 20s and 30s."

"Very good, Victoria. Candid photography was made famous by artists such as Henri Cartier-Bresson and Arthur Fellig, who captured their subjects honestly, without pretense." A wry grin flashed over his face, a nauseatingly practiced gesture that still made most of the students swoon. "Of course, this has also led to another, less glamorous type of photographer: the paparazzi."

He paused to allow a few chuckles from the class. Max couldn't help but frown.

"There's a difference between standard candid photography, where the subject knows about the camera but isn't required to pose, and secret photography, in which the subject has no knowledge that they're being photographed, and certainly can't consent to such a thing. Naturally, there are laws against this."

"Didn't stop you," she blurted out, and he blinked in surprise.

"What do you mean, Max?"

' _Shit!_ ' She rewound to the end of his last sentence, and changed her response.

"It's not just photos anymore," she said, glancing at Kate. "Now people have to worry about being video-taped without their permission."

"Max makes a salient point," he said. "I'm sure you all shared a certain viral video amongst yourselves over the last week. Such a thing can be devastating to a person captured doing something they thought no one would see. It brings up a larger conversation regarding privacy and how consent matters when your image is captured, and how social media can blur that line. If someone is in public, can they expect their image to remain private? And if they do get dragged into the spotlight, does that ever really go away?"

He was staring straight at Victoria, who crossed her arms and curled into herself.

Stella raised her hand. "So if there are laws against having our picture taken without our consent, why have I seen Mr. Madsen going around photographing students? Is that even legal?"

"An excellent question, Stella. Surveillance is another gray area where what someone can or can't do with a camera becomes muddled. Now, I'm not in charge of what measures Mr. Madsen deems necessary to protect the students at Blackwell, but given that Ms. Grant's petition prevented cameras from being installed all over campus, I'd say your voices do make a difference."

' _Yeah, you care so much about our safety,_ ' she thought, careful to keep it to the inside voice this time. ' _God, I wanna puke._ '

"These are all questions you should ask yourselves," Jefferson continued, "as you think about what kind of photographers you want to be. Is there more honesty in capturing your subject in the moment, without any setup? Or does posing offer a more intimate insight into someone, a way for them to show you who they truly are? When they don't have to guard themselves as carefully as they do in every other waking moment?"

He let the question sink in, while Max considered how best to bash his skull in with a tripod. How many times could she rewind that before her head started spinning?

"Remember, just like there are a multitude of angles to choose from, we present different facets of ourselves in response to the world around us. How you act around your teachers is different from how you behave around your fellow students, and I doubt you talk to your best friend the same way you would your grandmother. As a photographer, how do you know which one is real? And how will you capture it?"

Max reclined back in her seat. ' _Kill me now_.'

"Which one do you prefer?" asked Victoria, having clawed her way out of her pity party. "Do you like capturing your subjects in the moment, or would you rather give them time to present the version of themselves that they want you to see?"

He only smiled, and Max couldn't hide her grimace.

"There's always a middle ground," he replied. "And a good photographer has ways of finding the person underneath, the one the subject tries to hide behind everything they think they know about themselves. I'm sure that with time, you'll develop the same skill."

Unable to bear it any longer, Max slammed her hands down on her desk. "How do you do it?"

He stared back at her with a careful, practiced curiosity. "How do I do what, Max?"

"How do you come to class and act like everything's normal, when really you don't even see us as people? Just subjects."

"I'm not sure what you mean," he replied, off balance. "Are you concerned with my word choice? By this point you're obviously familiar with photography jargon."

"Cut the shit, Mr. Jefferson," she said. "I know who you are. The real you, the one you try to hide behind those hipster glasses and cool teacher attitude. I know about the Dark Room."

That got him to widen his eyes, but only for a moment before he caught himself. "Well of course, Max. I need somewhere to develop my photos."

"I'm sure."

Victoria arched an eyebrow at her. "Max, what are you talking about?"

She chuckled darkly. "Nothing."

She raised her arm, and time moved backwards once more, until it was like nothing ever happened. It felt good to make him sweat; to make him scramble to find the words to keep everyone else clueless. It felt good to say what she really thought. Even if no one would remember it but her.

A sudden warmth trickled slowly down her nostrils, and she raised a finger to wipe away the blood. When she looked up again, Jefferson was right in front of her, and she wasn't in his classroom anymore. He raised his camera and grinned like the devil.

"Smile for the camera, Max. And don't worry. There's plenty of space in the Dark Room for all of you."

He disappeared, and she found herself outside, in the woods. Rain pelted hard against her face, and she raised an arm in front of her eyes to block out the wind. Lightning streaked across the sky, and a low rumble rolled over the landscape like a fast approaching pressure wave. Turning in the direction of the flash, she saw a number of buildings, built into a woodland clearing.

There was a dirt road not far from where she was standing, leading to a gate in the wall that surrounded the complex. Above the gate, in large bronze letters, there was a name emblazoned on the stone: _Pan Estates_.

Over the horizon, the storm began to funnel down to the ground, taking a familiar shape. Max recoiled back, slipping to the ground.

"No," she whispered. "No, no, NO! I stopped it! This shouldn't be happening!"

She heard laughter beside her, and looked up into her own face, which bore a twisted grin. The figure's eyes went black, and dark shadows emerged from them like a fountain, transforming into ravens that scattered in every direction, before the whole world grew dark again.

She screamed, and the classroom reasserted itself around her. Jefferson was still leaning against the desk, and the whole class was staring at her.

"Are you okay, Max?" asked Kate.

Victoria squinted at her, concerned. "Yeah, you're bleeding."

"I'm fine!" she said too quickly. "I just need to go see the nurse."

Without even asking Jefferson's permission, she bolted from her seat, threw open the door and ran into the hall.


	8. Ghost Town

**Chapter Eight  
** Ghost Town

"Come on, Chloe: pick up."

Max paced back and forth along the sidewalk in front of Blackwell Academy, holding her phone in a death grip against her ear. Every so often she glanced over her shoulder, just to make sure she wasn't being followed. It was already too late to rewind to before her outburst, and she didn't have the greatest confidence in her powers at the moment anyway.

"Come on!"

Eventually the ringing ceased, and she heard the one voice that could calm her down right now. Unfortunately, that voice sounded pissed at her. "Four calls, Max? Really? I left my phone in the truck, what's up?"

"Chloe, I need you to come pick me up. Now."

There was a pause on the other end. "Not that I'm not dying to see you, but since when have you been this desperate to ditch school?"

Max grumbled. "Something seriously freaky happened, and I need to get out of here. Please."

"Get Rachel to take you. Her classes are over for the day."

"No." She shook her head. "I can't talk to Rachel about this. Just you. Come pick me up as soon as you can."

Another long pause. "Alright, Max. Your desperate phone calls haven't steered me wrong so far. I can be there in fifteen."

She breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank you, Chloe. You're my hero."

"Whatever you say, Super Max."

* * *

As promised, a tan pickup with the license plate TWNPKS pulled into the Blackwell Academy parking lot. Max jerked on the handle and clambered in, reaching over and hugging the girl in the driver's seat.

"Whoa, hey, let me put this thing in park first," said Chloe, adjusting the gear shift. "Don't want me rolling into somebody's ride."

Max released her, collapsing back in her seat. "I wouldn't mind if you hit Mr. Jefferson's car."

"Ooh, is it expensive?"

"Probably." She glanced around. "It's right over there."

"Are we talking fender bender, or do you want to total it?"

She sighed and lowered her head, smiling slightly. "On second thought, we probably shouldn't."

"Why the hell not? You can rewind if something bad happens."

Max stared at the glove compartment and didn't respond.

"Hey, what's wrong?"

"Something bad already happened," she revealed. "And I can't trust my rewind right now. Let's just drive."

"Copy that." Chloe put the truck back in gear and pulled out of the parking lot onto the open road. "Where to? Lighthouse? Junkyard?"

She shook her head. "We need to get to Pan Estates. Have you been there before?"

"No." The other girl arched an eyebrow in her direction before turning her attention back to the road. "Why are you so keen on going there?"

"I had another vision," Max said slowly, quietly. "I saw the tornado again."

Chloe jerked forward in her seat, and the tires skidded a bit, but she quickly righted their course. "Wait, seriously?"

"Seriously."

She gradually leaned back. "But you said you stopped it."

"I thought I did." Max glanced out the passenger side window, away from her best friend. "The vision was different this time. Last time the tornado threatened the whole town, but this time it was centered on Pan Estates. That's where it's going to strike if we don't stop it."

It was quiet for a few moments before Chloe shrugged. "What if we don't?"

Max whipped her head around to stare at her. "What?"

"Pan Estates is Sean Prescott's creepy cult compound for all the weird rich people, right? Hell, I'd pay to see them get sucked up in a tornado."

"That's not funny, Chloe."

"Oh relax, I wasn't serious." She patted Max on the shoulder. "But what good is going there gonna do?"

"I have to make sure the version of Pan Estates that I saw in my vision is real, and not just something I imagined," she said. "The first time I got a vision of the tornado, it happened in Jefferson's class, then later when I went to the lighthouse with you. The second time was when I found a newspaper telling me it would happen on Friday."

"Meaning if we go to where your vision took place, it might trigger again and you can find more information."

She nodded. "Exactly."

"Okay, guess we're going there then. We should still have time to meet Rachel at that bar once we're done." She stared at the road, then glanced in Max's direction. "You said you couldn't talk to her about this. Why is that?"

Max frowned and hunched her shoulders forward, locking eyes with the floorboard. "Because that means admitting I have no clue what really caused the tornado. It means admitting that I have no idea how to stop it, because it's just… inevitable."

It was silent for several moments, and Chloe turned to her, narrowing her eyes. "What are you really saying, Max?"

"Every time I make a new timeline, I always find something wrong with it," she revealed. "At one point I used a photo to travel back to the day your dad died, and I stopped him from taking his car to pick up your mom. But when everything resettled, _you_ were the one who got in a car accident instead. You were paralyzed from the neck down, and your lungs were slowly failing while your parents were drowning in debt trying to keep you alive."

Chloe blinked and reared her head back, stunned. She returned her eyes to the road. "Fuck. Is there any universe where I get a break?"

"It wasn't that one. You even asked me to… to end it for you. To give you a morphine overdose. But I couldn't do it. In the end I had to travel back through the photo and… and let William die all over again."

Slamming the brakes, Chloe pulled over to a small dirt lot on the side of the road. "If you're saying what I think you're saying, you can get the fuck out and walk!"

Max shook her head. "God, no! I'm not going to let Rachel die again. I'm done trying to patch in every little crack until everything's perfect. But no matter what I do, that tornado is always waiting! And now it's starting to change with the rest of reality!"

Rolling her eyes, Chloe pulled back onto the road. "You know what your problem is, Max?"

She chuckled darkly. "Which one? I'm nosy, indecisive, full of myself, and I'm never satisfied with anything."

"All true. But no. Your problem is that you never give yourself enough credit for the shit you've actually done right."

"Oh yeah? Like what?"

"You brought Rachel back," she said. "Because of you, I never had to go through the pain of losing her. And I understand why you wanted to bring back my dad, and why you couldn't. But you fucking tried, Max. You're a better friend than you realize."

"Some friend. I've been ditching you for Rachel the last few days."

"Hey, I'm not jealous of you and her," she replied. "You're both my best friends. Besides, when you had that vision earlier, your first instinct was to call me. What does that tell you?"

Max chuckled, smiling slightly "That you'll always be my partner in crime."

"As long as you're my partner in time."

For reasons unknown to Chloe, she exploded into laughter. Chloe cracked a smile herself, and they continued driving down the road.

* * *

Pan Estates wasn't that far from Blackwell Academy, all things considered. It was mostly dirt roads, which were slated to be paved later on in construction. For now, the only vehicles that travelled there were involved in said construction, but Chloe's pickup managed to make the trek with no issues.

"Park here," Max whispered, pointing to a small clearing about a quarter mile from the gates. "We can walk the rest of the way."

"You sure? Nobody's even here."

"But they might show up later. And even my rewind has limits."

Chloe pulled over and parked the truck behind a large tree, angling it so that they could quickly merge back onto the road in the event of a quick getaway. They sat in silence for several moments before exiting the truck in one synchronized movement, slamming both doors shut.

"You do realize they'll still see us even without the truck, right?"

"Not if we hide."

A shrug. "Here's hoping you leveled up your sneak skill, then."

"You are such a dork," Max replied, punching her arm. "Come on, let's get closer."

The sun was starting its slow arc downwards, and the warm amber glow flooded in through the evergreens, forming a kaleidoscope of shadows. Pine needles crunched beneath their soles as they stalked forward, keeping a wary eye about them. Ahead, Pan Estates looked hollow and incomplete, a ghost town of skeletal frames and exposed lumber, barely glimpsed over the solid eight foot wall surrounding the premises.

"Well, if a tornado hits here, nobody's getting hurt except a few raccoons," said Chloe. "I don't know what you're so worried about."

She grumbled. "You seriously think a tornado's just gonna stop once it's torn this place to shreds? Blackwell is only two miles off, and so is the rest of the town. The only difference from the other timeline is that it'll be coming from the other direction."

"You don't think it could head further inland?"

"I have no idea. But we can't take that chance. I need to know when it's going to happen."

"By all means then." She gestured with both hands. "Let the visions commence."

"It doesn't work like that."

By this time they had come across various pieces of construction equipment that towered over the area like ancient monoliths. A jackhammer lay dormant next to a stack of cinder blocks, and powdered cement was piled high like sandbags. Chloe plucked a hardhat from a nearby workbench, then leaned against the enormous tires of a nearby backhoe. Max stood across from her with her arms folded over her chest.

"Okay then, let's think our way through this. What were you doing when these visions triggered?"

"Most of the time they're just random," she said. "And they happen at the worst possible moment. One time I blacked out near the train tracks, and you almost got hit by a train because your foot was stuck in the rails."

"That sounds like my luck."

"It could be tied to strong emotions," Max continued. "Other times it happens when I've overused my powers. But there's no way to tell when one of them is coming."

Pursing her lips, Chloe crossed her arms and stared at the ground, lifting one booted foot off the ground and resting it against the tire. Her mouth cracked open as a thought initialized, but died before it ever left her throat. After a minute or so she removed the hardhat, spinning it intermittently between her hands.

"When I first met Rachel, I kept having this nightmare that I was in the car my dad was driving when he died," she revealed, then tossed the hardhat to the side, letting it skip across the gravel before it came to a stop against a pile of sledgehammers. "I had a vision of Rachel catching fire, right before she burned down Overlook Park."

She blinked. "Wait, what?"

"Let's just say she had a pretty strong reaction when she found out her dad was cheating on her mom. At least, that's what it looked like from up there. Point is, whatever these visions of yours are, I might have gone through something similar."

"The other you never told me that."

"Guess you never had this conversation with the other me."

"Guess not."

"What was I like? In the other timeline?"

Max lifted herself up and sat atop a pile of bricks. "Sad. Angry. Bit of a mess. Without Rachel you kind of fell apart." The barest hint of a smile formed on her lips. "But you were so happy to have me back in your life. You called me out for leaving you, and I totally deserved it, but you couldn't stay mad at me. And when you found out I had superpowers, you were so supportive. You believed in me, even when I didn't believe in myself. That's why I fell in love with you."

Blushing, Chloe turned her face away for a moment. "Wow. You just came right out and said it, didn't you?"

"I understand if that totally freaks you out. And I wouldn't blame you for wanting to be with Rachel instead. She's so much cooler than I am."

"There you go again with the inferiority complex. You could have totally leaned in for a kiss right then and I'd have gone for it."

"Really?"

"No Max, I'm kidding. I'm not that easy."

"Ha. Good one."

"Look, Rachel and I are… complicated. She's not really on the table for me right now. Even though I've wanted her since the moment I met her."

Max frowned. "Sorry."

"Don't be. And don't worry about not being as cool as her. Nobody is."

"You are."

"Now you're just being silly."

* * *

"Anything?"

"No."

Max was lying down on the bags of concrete, her head extended over the edge, viewing the world from upside down. Chloe sat cross-legged in front of her, occasionally flicking her nose. After a few minutes of this she finally dragged herself up, standing and staring off at the horizon.

"You wanna call it?"

"No."

Shrugging, Chloe stood and moved next to her, wrapping an arm around her and pulling her into a side hug. "Don't be too hard on yourself. Prophecy's a real bitch sometimes."

"Heh. You're telling me."

"Come on. I know this isn't what's got you on edge. Is something else bothering you?"

She laced her thumbs together, tapping her hands against her waist as her head dropped. "I ran into Nathan today."

"Really?" She removed the arm from her shoulders and ground a fist into her palm. "If that little punk did anything to hurt you…"

"He didn't. Rachel actually got him to apologize to one of his teachers. He's not out to get me in this reality, so he wasn't even that scary. But it still bothered me for some reason."

"Yeah, no kidding. Even if he didn't get his paws on Rachel, he's still left way too many girls in his wake."

"Not just him. When we found the Dark Room, there were _dozens_ of binders in there with different girls' names on them. And that might not have been all of them. But Jefferson still goes to class every day like everything's just fine. How can he do that? How can Nathan do that? Do we mean _nothing_ to them?"

"Probably. Now I get why you wanted to leave."

She nodded. "I could barely even stand to be in the same room with him. And the rest of the class still looks at Jefferson like he's the coolest teacher in the world. Even I couldn't see past it until he shot you right in front of me."

Chloe shot a sympathetic look her way, then embraced her in a long hug. "I can't even imagine what you've been through. You're so strong, Max. If I had to put up with half of what you've seen, I'd probably go crazy."

"Who says I haven't?"

"The fact that you're still Max Caulfield. After all these years."

They each moved backward, but didn't separate entirely. They stood there for several breathless moments, staring into each other's eyes as the sun continued to dim in their peripheral.

"I thought you said you were kidding," Max whispered as the other girl began to lean in.

"Yeah, well I say a lot of shit." With that, their lips collided, and Chloe wrapped her palm around the back of Max's head, pulling her in closer. After a minute or so they separated, continuing to behold each other with awestruck eyes.

The sound of tires against soft dirt reached their ears at the same time, and they both gasped. "Hide!"

Scrambling away from the approaching vehicle, they took refuge behind the backhoe, peeking out from underneath. Half a minute passed, and they discovered that it was not one car approaching, but two.

The first was a ludicrously expensive-looking black Bentley, glinting in the evening sun. The second car was decidedly more vintage, one that was long past its heyday, but still ran after all these years. Max had seen it in Chloe's garage on Friday.

Next to her, Chloe was having the same realization, and watched the scene with furious eyes. The driver's side door opened on both vehicles, and two men emerged. One wore an expensive suit and had red hair interlaced with streaks of silver. They would recognize the other one anywhere.

"That slimy son of a bitch," seethed Chloe. "Mom said she was keeping him home all day."

"The day's almost over."

"Touché."

From where they were, listening in was almost impossible, but the two men walked closer, heading towards the gates.

"Get a picture," Chloe whispered, and she obliged, careful to first turn off the flash. The old camera clicked and whirred with troubling volume, but neither of the men approaching them seemed to notice.

"The plan is to place the cameras so their fields of vision slightly overlap," David was saying. "That way there aren't any blind spots. Now there's this company out of Canada that makes these cameras with wide-angle lenses, and they come packaged with a motion sensor and a thermal mode. A little more expensive than your standard gear, but these would keep someone like me out, easily."

"Can they capture sound?"

"If you want 'em to. They run on a closed circuit, meaning even if someone cuts the power, they won't turn off. And if they do manage to disable that, each one's got a battery that'll keep it running on its own for upwards of seventy-two hours."

The red-haired man nodded, and they stopped for a moment, near where Max and Chloe had been standing before. "Is looping a concern?"

David shrugged. "In all honesty, looping only happens in the movies. It takes serious programming knowledge, not to mention the parts aren't easy to acquire, much less use. More often they try and disable the system, but if you go with this one, that won't be an issue."

"Very well then. Get an estimate to my office by tomorrow."

"Will do." They started moving again, further into the complex. "Now, any system is only as secure as its users. You'll want to make sure the men guarding this place are highly trained…"

They disappeared behind the gate, leaving Max and Chloe standing there dumbstruck.

"That mother _fucker_! Can you believe this?"

She nodded. "I can. In the other timeline I found blueprints in the garage for where he wanted to put cameras in Pan Estates. I knew he was working for the Prescotts, but…"

"But what? Do you have any idea who he was talking to? That was _Sean_ Prescott. The slimy shit pit that Nathan crawled out of. And David's doing security work for him?"

"It's not just that. I think he might be doing something with Nathan too. But Chloe, he doesn't know about the Dark Room. Once he found out, he saved me from Mr. Jefferson. When he found out Jefferson had killed you, he shot him in the head. I know this sounds hard to believe, but maybe he's just getting close to the Prescotts so he can find out what's up with them."

"Yeah, real fucking likely, Max. Let's go or we'll be late meeting Rachel."

Frowning, Max followed her lead, and they began heading back to the truck. They were within sight of it when Max felt a sudden warmth dripping from her nostrils, and dipped a finger into the blood. She gasped.

"Not now…"

"Max?" Chloe turned around just in time to see her best friend collapse like a pile of toothpicks. "Max!"

But Max couldn't hear her anymore.


	9. The Dead Side of Forever

**Chapter Nine  
** The Dead Side of Forever

The world outside the small bedroom window was gray and foreboding, visible only in brief glimpses through the raindrops that tap-danced against the glass in a steady, hypnotizing rhythm. A pair of muffled voices could be heard down the hall, and the sound of rain was quickly overtaken by giggling and several loud thuds as two bodies moved closer, finally exploding through the door and into the room.

A tall girl with blue hair clutched the other girl close to her as they backed through the doorway, lips locked tight. She had already shed her jacket, and separated just long enough to remove her tank top, revealing a black bra underneath.

The other girl smiled, and proceeded to undress her further, until they were rolling around on top of the bed. The sounds of passionate laughter echoed throughout the room, before the two of them toppled onto the floor, scattering into a pile of raven feathers. The sound of the rain returned, as though nothing had ever happened.

Max Caulfield walked through the door, clutching the side of her head with one hand and placing the other against the doorframe. She recognized the room around her, and the scene that had just played out before her was still a vivid memory. She turned slowly in a circle, staring at her surroundings.

"Why am I at my parents' house?"

Nobody answered.

She'd made this room her own when she moved to Seattle, and after fleeing Arcadia Bay, she and Chloe had taken refuge here with her parents. It already felt like a lifetime ago. That one rainy afternoon had been the first time she'd done… anything like that. But they were alone, and they were in love. That sort of thing happened.

But why was she back here?

"If this ends in another diner…"

The door closed behind her with a quiet thud, and she spun around, nearly tripping as one leg crossed in front of the other, but caught herself. The rain continued to pour outside, keeping the quiet emptiness at bay. Hesitantly, she reached out for the door, and slowly pulled it open.

Immediately she was thrust outside, standing at one end of a road littered with debris. The Two Whales diner lay gutted before her, ripped asunder and left to rot. She heard the lonely, squawking cries of the gulls and the waves hitting the shore, but nothing else. Cars were open and abandoned, but the bodies were suspiciously absent. As if they'd already been removed.

The air was uncomfortably still. The street before her seemed frozen in time, dead and forgotten, with nobody around to witness it but her.

Max walked slowly down the road, towered over by shattered ruins. The pavement was still slick with moisture, glittering in the autumn sunlight as if scattered with diamonds. Oil had pooled beneath an overturned semi, reflecting images like glass, but without so much clarity. She stared down into the black, twisted mirror, and scowled.

"Okay, think," she said, running both hands through her hair and clutching the back of her scalp in a death grip. "There's a logic to all of this, it just looks a little twisted. I have to find the next door."

This wasn't what she meant when she told Chloe that she wanted to reenter the vision. She had expected everything to come in brief flashes like before, not end up trapped in a nightmare all over again. At least nothing was trying to mess with her head yet.

Making her way through the rubble, she entered the ruins of the diner, frowning at a plastic salt shaker whose only injury had been falling on its side. Next to it, the counter had been split in half.

"Hello?" she bellowed, cupping her hands over her mouth. "Is anybody in here?"

No answer.

The jukebox sputtered to life, causing Max to gasp and draw a hand to her chest as she lurched backwards. The track skipped intermittently as it tried its best to play some generic country tune designed to make the diner feel like it could be anywhere, regardless of the world outside its windows.

Max groaned in pain and shut her eyes, clutching her forehead. The music grew stronger, smoothing over the skips until it achieved a steady melody. Opening her eyes, Max saw that the Two Whales had been restored to its former glory.

But it was still empty.

She sat down at one of the stools, resting her head between her hands as she propped her elbows on the counter and closed her eyes for just a moment.

"What are you having?"

She gasped, nearly falling off the stool. She looked up and saw Samantha Black Elk, dressed in a uniform that looked a lot like Joyce's. She would have laughed if she didn't value her kneecaps.

"Hey." A pair of fingers snapped in front of her face. "I said, what are you having? Want a milkshake?"

"Uh…" She hesitated for several moments. "Yeah. Sure."

"Coming right up."

To her credit, the milkshake literally did come right up, appearing instantly in the space before her.

"I'll have one too," said Rachel, walking up from behind and clambering onto the stool next to her. She elbowed Max, who still hadn't touched the phantom milkshake. "What are you doing here?"

"I… I don't know. I was trying to get back to my vision and…"

"Oh, this looks delicious!" She began sucking down her milkshake with a straw, and Max sighed, then followed suit.

"If you're here, then where's Chloe?"

"Off being depressed somewhere," said Rachel. "She was getting to be kind of a drag, so I figured I'd come hang out with you. At least you have the good sense to keep your feelings to yourself and go along with what I want. It's what I look for in a friend."

Max reared back, staring at her in horror. "How can you say that? She's your best friend."

"No, she's _your_ best friend. I have a life outside of her, thank you very much." She smirked. "Then again, you've been spending more time with me than her lately. Did she tell you she wasn't jealous? Did you believe her?"

"You're not Rachel," she realized, leaning slowly away from her in muted horror. "Rachel would never say these things."

"How would you know? You just fucking met me."

Max steeled her features into a glare. "I know because I've been here before. And you're not fooling me."

"Shut up and enjoy your milkshake, Max. You're gonna need your strength."

"For what?"

"This."

The false Rachel shoved her off the stool, and instead of hitting the floor, Max plummeted into darkness.

* * *

Max didn't remember landing, but she had found herself solid ground all the same. She stood up, blinking groggily, and saw that she was in the Dark Room.

She inhaled sharply and threw her hands over her mouth, spinning in place to find that she was alone. The bright, sterile lighting and evil energy of the space around her only intensified the headache she felt, and Max clutched her temples, hissing in pain.

There was a brief flash, like part of a video had skipped, and then Victoria was sitting before her strapped to a chair. The other girl glared at her, carving deep furrows into her face.

"Nice job, hero. You knew I was going to end up here, but I guess you forgot to mention that to Chloe when you called her all those months ago. You were so focused on saving Rachel you forgot about everyone else that Mr. Jefferson hurt. Did it feel good to get him to call me out for taking that video of Kate?"

"I didn't mean for that to happen," she said, her voice barely above a squeak.

"But I didn't see you rewinding to stop it. You only do that with your own mistakes."

Still clutching the sides of her head, Max closed her eyes and shook it vigorously. "I don't have to listen to this. You're not real!"

"Doesn't mean I'm wrong."

"Look I'm sorry, okay? I should have stopped this. But I'm gonna make it right."

"Maybe. If the pressure doesn't get to you first."

"What do you…?" She felt a sudden weight in her hand, and looked down to find that she was holding a prohibitively expensive camera. Her hands were bigger than usual, and she felt taller as well. "What the hell is this?"

That was strange. Her voice didn't usually sound like that. It sounded like…

She turned around to find that a mirror had come to rest in the middle of the room. Mr. Jefferson stared back at her.

Unable to think anymore, Max opened her mouth and screamed, but Jefferson's voice came out. The mirror shattered, followed by the rest of the world around her.

* * *

"I'm telling you, Chloe: it doesn't make sense."

She was back in the room in her parents' house, sitting on the bed and watching a memory play out. Chloe was sitting down at Max's desk, staring at the screen of her computer, while Max's past self hovered over her shoulder. Around them, there was only darkness.

"Then let's go over it again. You got the tornado vision right before you saw me die and discovered your powers, right?"

"Right."

"And this somehow proves the tornado wasn't caused by you trying to undo my death?"

"Yes!"

"For someone who's watched as much science fiction as you have, you really have no idea how a time loop works, do you? Sometimes visions of the future can result from changes you already made to the past, but you just haven't gotten there yet."

Past Max stood up straighter, staring at Chloe with utter bewilderment. "What?"

Chloe sighed. "You have to start thinking about time differently. It's not a straight line; it's more like a… pretzel. It curves in over itself and intersects with different paths. The changes you made to the timeline over the last week could have caused the tornado, and you got a vision of it early because your future self already changed things."

"That still doesn't mean the universe wanted you dead, Chloe."

"Then why has my life been a _Final Destination_ movie ever since that bathroom?"

"I don't know, maybe because you put yourself in more danger than you otherwise would have?"

"You're seriously underestimating how much danger I put myself in on a regular basis after you left."

"Whatever. All I know is, the tornado came and went, and you're still here. There has to be another explanation. Maybe… maybe the tornado _was_ Rachel's revenge. Maybe it all leads back to her."

"You could be right, Max. But it's not like we can ask her."

Her past self frowned and put a finger to her chin. "I wouldn't be so sure."

The scene faded, and Max found herself alone in the darkness. She reclined back on the bed and closed her eyes.

* * *

Her eyes snapped open again, and Max shook her head, dazed. She was seated in a chair, on the stage where Rachel had taken her and Chloe to an improv group. The room was empty but bizarrely well lit, and she could see the little imperfections that were hidden when those lights were dimmed, and all eyes were glued to the stage.

In the space of a single blink, the seats in front were filled with warm bodies, who stared vacantly at her like she was just another prop. Steph Gingrich emerged from the tech booth in the back, sidling up to the stage and standing next to her. It was then Max realized that her mouth had been covered by duct tape, and her hands and legs had been bound to the chair.

"Listen up, everybody. We're going to play a new game. It's called 'I hate Max because…' All you have to do is finish that sentence."

"With pleasure," said Victoria, standing up and grinding a fist into her palm. "I hate Max because she's a pretentious little poser who wants to make everybody happy, but can't even manage her own wardrobe, much less save me from Mr. Jefferson's dark room. My therapist will be able to buy a new pool with all the money I'll be paying her for the rest of my life."

Warren stood next. "I hate Max because even though she says she's my friend, she always blows me off. She even jumped into another timeline, and all I got was a shitty hug and death by tornado. So what if I'm alive now? I'm still in the friendzone."

"Not when I'm done with you," Brooke said from next to him, and the two started making out sloppily.

"I hate Max because she always has the right answers," said Juliet. "But she doesn't get them fair and square. She had to rewind time just to remember my last name. That's not being cool, that's cheating. I bet you didn't even read the poem for Ms. Hoida's class."

Next to her, Max saw a tall girl with blue hair and a beanie, her head hung low. She breathed in deeply and braced herself, but the attack never came. Chloe looked up at her with serious eyes.

"You need to get out of here, Max. Now."

' _How? I'm tied up._ '

Chloe stood, producing her father's old instant camera from her pocket, then clambered up on stage and stood in front of her. "Like this. And sorry for what you're about to see next. Not everyone in here is me."

' _Huh?_ '

She pressed the shutter, and whole world turned white.

* * *

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dne eht ta gninnigeb ,esrever ni tuo deyalp noitasrevnoc riehT .sdrawkcab …saw gniyas erew lehcaR dna eolhC gnihtyreve tub ,taht ylno toN .htuom reh revo epat llits saw ereht dna ,dnuob llits erew sdnah reh taht derevocsid dna ,evom ot deirt xaM

 _'.niaga toN'_

".ecirP ,ti tog uoY"

".levohs a barg em teL .emit llits s'erehT"

".ereht tuo deirub llits saw I hsiw em sekam tsomlA"

".pu kcuf eht desiw I dalG .tem tsrif ew nehw em no taht dellup uoy ,haeY"

".deksa I gnihtyna od d'ehs wenk I dna ecno reh no tih saw od ot dah I llA ?su fo rehtie htiw ecnahc a sah ehs kniht yllautca ehs seoD" .dehgual lehcaR

".eciohc elpmis a revo ezinoga t'ndid ehs fi dleifluaC xaM eb t'ndluow ehS .reh ta kooL"

.erom ecno noivilbo otni llef xaM dna ,retaw otni gnillips kni ekil reh dnuora demraws ssenkraD

* * *

She was still in the junkyard, but now it was night, and time was moving forward again. Ahead of her a car burned, the driver's side dented inward by some incredible force. A man sat with his back turned, roasting a marshmallow over the flames. Next to him, a raven stood watch.

Slowly, she made her way over to the man, stopping when she recognized his auburn hair.

"William."

William Price peered over his shoulder, cracking half a smile. "Oh, Max. I wasn't expecting to see you here. Didn't think you could get here, to be honest. This little corner wasn't meant for you."

"What do you mean?" She continued to glance around. "And where is here?"

"Oh, it's got plenty of names." The raven's head jerked stiffly as it met her eyes for but a moment before it resumed scanning around. "Limbo. Purgatory. But I've grown partial to calling it something else."

Max ventured closer, taking a seat on the log next to William. "What?"

"Look out there," he said, and she obeyed, squinting into the distance.

The closest thing she saw was the charred remains of a forest, but where the horizon should have been was just… void. Black, inky, swirling darkness bounded the space after a certain distance, just like when she'd had to find her way through a maze of every man who'd ever set off her creep alert. William hadn't been one of them, for whatever that was worth.

"Beautiful, isn't it? You're looking at the Dead Side of Forever."

"The what?"

"Even time has to end somewhere, Max. It's like this junkyard; eventually some things just grow old and stop being useful, and we need to have some place to put them. It's not an afterlife; not quite, but it's a place where you can find things that would otherwise be forgotten."

"Like you?"

He laughed. "I suppose so."

"I still don't understand what this place is."

"Chloe was always the little scientist, wasn't she? I miss that. She could probably explain this a lot better than I can. All I know is if you travel far enough in this place, you'll eventually hit a dead end." He chuckled. "Heh. Dead."

Max shook her head. "Why do I expect a straight answer from you? You're not even real."

"Reality is a matter of perspective," he countered. "Even if I don't exist by your standards, on some level I still take up space. Even if it's just in your head. Or Chloe's."

Deflating, Max retrieved a stick at her feet and began roasting a marshmallow alongside him. "Chloe."

"Say hi when you see her. She hasn't been down here in a while, but I still think about her all the time."

She nodded. "I will."

The marshmallow started to burn, but she didn't pull it back. Max watched as the charred cinders slawed off the stick, then dropped into the flames. Beside her, William said nothing.

"I'm sorry."

"For what, Max?"

"Letting you die a second time. I only wanted to make Chloe's life better, but I made everyone's life worse. Including yours."

He turned toward her, and her eyes widened as she saw that the left half of his face was skinless and charred. "What are you talking about, Max? I had my wife and my daughter. That's all I ever needed."

"But Chloe was dying. And you were in so much debt trying to hold onto her for as long as possible. I couldn't let Chloe suffer like that. I couldn't let _any_ of you suffer like that. That's why I had to undo it. Like I said, I'm sorry. But it was the only way."

"You're a smart young woman," he said, turning back towards the fire. "I'm sure you made the decision you thought was best."

They sat in silence for several minutes. Finally Max closed her eyes and sighed, setting the stick down.

"Do you know the way out of here?"

"I never bothered looking," he admitted. "But you're different. You're still alive. I imagine you'll figure it out sooner or later."

She sighed. "I hope so."

The fire slowly faded, and darkness overtook her once more.

* * *

She was walking down a trail.

The forest stood before her like an ocean of green, growing thicker and more enormous the further in she went. Before long she had lost sight of the sky, surrounded on all sides by wood and underbrush. A distant bellow sounded, echoing out into eternity.

Before long, Max discovered three totems, each forming a trailhead for three different paths. Emerging from each totem was a spectral version of the animal depicted, staring back at her as she struggled to decide between them.

On the right was a doe, steadfast and familiar. It had led her to safety before, but she couldn't trust that it was the same one. The trees behind it were toppled and soaked with rain, while a storm still raged in the distance.

On the left was a raven, eerie but somehow reassuring. Its black eyes contained a wisdom greater than many would ever know. Behind it, the trail burned, bringing light at the cost of destroying something beautiful, so that something else could rise anew from the ashes.

In the middle was a large elk, dark as the abyss, steam rising around it and framing it in mist. It began to walk further down the path, and Max followed, leaving the other totems behind.

A voice began to speak, distant and yet omnipresent, stretching out forever but somehow right inside her head. After a moment she recognized it as Rachel's.

 _Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,  
And sorry I could not travel both  
And be one traveler, long I stood  
And looked down one as far as I could  
To where it bent in the undergrowth_

To her left, a world was destroyed in fire, while on her right everything was ripped asunder by sound and fury. Max continued down the trail in front of her, following the elk as it lumbered forward, obscuring her view. Better to know that the path led somewhere than to travel down a road already washed away.

The trees towered over her like skyscrapers, tall and eternal, and a cold, unforgiving moon shone brilliantly upon the trail as she continued to walk. Rachel's disembodied voice kept reciting the poem, which Max found strangely soothing. Maybe she just liked hearing her speak, no matter the context.

 _Then took the other, as just as fair,  
And having perhaps the better claim,  
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;  
Though as for that the passing there  
Had worn them really about the same_

On her left she heard screaming, saw Rachel drop a photograph in a trash can and kick it over before the whole scene rewound and repeated itself. Chloe stood next to her, powerless.

On the right, another Chloe stood paralyzed, watching as Max held a photograph in her hand, then tore it in two, scattering it to the winds of fate.

She never had a choice.

Max remembered hearing news about a wildfire, but it never quite registered with her as something to be concerned about. She was in Seattle, after all, not Arcadia Bay. In a way, fire suited Chloe and Rachel's relationship, like the tornado did with her and Chloe. One was wild, passionate, and all-consuming, while the other was chaotic, confusing, but also inevitable. Like it was meant to happen no matter what.

And both of them destroyed everything in their path.

 _And both that morning equally lay  
In leaves no step had trodden black.  
Oh, I kept the first for another day!  
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,  
I doubted if I should ever come back._

Ever since she entered this new timeline, her decisions had boiled down to whether she wanted to spend time with Chloe or Rachel. Occasionally she was able to be with both of them, but more and more she'd been prioritizing Rachel. Was it because the relationship was new? Chloe had spoken at length about Rachel's intoxicating presence, the way she could draw you in without meaning to; a wildfire that burned so brightly she could blind you to everything else.

And everyone was drawn to her like moths.

But her feelings for Chloe hadn't gone away, as this afternoon had proved. She was her rock, her anchor; the person who kept her tied to whatever version of reality she found herself in. If given the choice between Chloe and practically anybody else, she would choose blue hair and beanies every time. But when that decision involved Rachel, everything was different.

The roads continued on ahead, and Max saw the same truck driving down both of them. Rachel in the passenger seat of one of them, Max in the other. Chloe was driving both. The elk powered forward, stopping just long enough for a butterfly to cross its path.

This nightmare was never going to end. She just kept going deeper into the labyrinth, a fractal, recursive path that kept repeating into infinity. A bottomless rabbit hole, designed to break the will of all who ventured too deep.

 _I shall be telling this with a sigh  
Somewhere ages and ages hence:  
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I —  
I took the one less traveled by,  
And that has made all the difference._

They reached the end of the trail, and the elk steered to the side, allowing her to pass. She gave it a respectful nod, and passed on further into the darkness, remembering what William said about dead ends. There had to be some way out of this maze. Something she had overlooked.

A hand grasped hers, and she turned to see Chloe giving her a weary, sober smile.

"It's just a little further, Max. You're almost out of here."

Holding hands, they stepped into the darkness together.

* * *

Country music invaded her ears, and Max blinked as she found herself back in the Two Whales diner. Alone.

"When's this gonna end?" she wondered aloud. "Am I trapped here?"

She heard a scoff from behind her. "You talk to yourself too much, you know that?"

Pivoting slowly, Max looked into her own face. Crossing her arms, she glared at her doppelganger with an exhausted fury. "Pot calling the kettle black, don't you think?"

"Whatever."

"Here to make me feel like shit again?"

"Oh please." The other Max hoisted herself up on a stool, leaning against the counter with one elbow. "You've been doing it to yourself all day. What do you need me for?"

"Good question."

"Basic rule of the universe: everything comes in threes. You had this conversation with Rachel this morning, then you had it with Chloe. Now it's time for you to have it with yourself."

Max reared her head back and stared at her skeptically, cocking one hip to the side. "What conversation?"

"The one where you take all the thousands of lives you're changing, the worlds you've abandoned because they didn't suit your needs, and make it all about you and your feelings. You think anyone still gives a shit?"

"Chloe does."

"Which Chloe is that? You've gone through so many I've lost track."

Max staggered back, the words striking her more forcefully than any punch, and collapsed into the booth behind her. She stared at her clone aghast, a hand hovering over her mouth as she trembled. "What are you talking about?"

A dark grin curled across her face as she leaned forward and brought her hands together in the space between her knees. "Let me ask you a question: what happens to those worlds when you change history? Where do they go?"

She sat there blinking, dazed. "I don't know. I guess they just keep going without me."

"Wrong." The other Max gestured outside the windows, where everything lingered with an unpleasant stillness. "They go here. Their echoes do, anyway. You bring them with you whenever you come here. Like that little bedroom scene earlier."

"And what about William? Did I bring him here too? He called this place the Dead Side of Forever."

"That's one way of describing it."

"He also told me to say hi to Chloe when I see her. Has she been here too?"

She nodded.

Facing her again, Max glared. "So who the fuck are you?"

Her doppelganger only smiled. "No one you need to worry about. Just a reflection."

"It was you messing with my head," she realized, low and quiet. "Wasn't it?"

The smile grew inhumanly wide, splitting her face literally down the middle as it expanded further than her form could accommodate. There was a brief flash, like someone had tapped the fast forward button for just a second. Mark Jefferson now stood before her.

"Would you prefer I talk to you like this?" he asked, extending his arms outward and walking towards her.

Time skipped again, and now she saw Chloe. "Or maybe this will put you in the mood? Come on, what's one more version of me?"

Another flash. Now she saw Rachel. "What about the new model? You gonna tell Chloe you have the world's biggest crush on me?"

"STOP IT!" Max clutched the sides of her head and curled into herself. "This isn't real!"

Reality adjusted again, and whatever the hell was talking to her had morphed back into her doppelganger and slid into the booth across from her. "That's the bad news, Caulfield. It is real. It's just not your reality."

"Can I go now?"

"Depends on you. You found the way out before. All you have to do is wait for Chloe to come save you. So you can abandon her. Again."

"Dude, what have I told you about fucking with her head?"

The other Max sighed, leaning back in the booth and glancing at Chloe over her shoulder. "Right on cue."

"Come on, Max. Let's go." She reached out her hand, and Max hesitated. "What's wrong?"

"How do I know you're really here to help me? You could be another trick."

Chloe shrugged. "If you don't trust me after everything we've been through together, then I can't help you. But I'm the only one in here who wants to."

She took Chloe's hand, and the two of them walked out of the diner together. The other Max smiled wickedly at them, before fading into nothing.

* * *

They emerged on a hill overlooking Pan Estates. The night sky had settled over the earth like a blanket, and she saw a fire burning a hole in it down below. Chloe stood next to her, holding her hand.

"This is where you were trying to go," she said. "I tried guiding you here earlier, but that thing wanted you to get lost."

"Why? And what is that thing?"

"Some kind of trickster spirit. It… rules this place. It gets off on messing with your head, but it can't actually kill you. Just make you wish you were dead."

"But you're not part of that?"

Chloe shrugged. "Like it told you, you bring part of yourself with you whenever you visit here. That's why everything in here is made up of pieces from your life, rearranged into some twisted collage designed to fuck with you."

"Are you…" She had to force the words to leave her mouth. "Are you my Chloe?"

"Not exactly. I'm just what you remember about her." She smiled. "But don't worry. She still has a Max. All of us do."

"But that thing said the alternate timelines don't continue," said Max. "They just come here to… die."

"That _thing_ is full of shit. You can't trust anything it tells you." She placed a hand on her forehead and sighed. "You ever watch _Quantum Leap_? Do those people's lives just end once Scott Bakula leaves?"

"No." She shook her head. "They go on."

"Exactly. You don't disappear from a timeline when you make a new one. Nothing ever disappears."

Max recoiled back, clutching a hand to her chest. "But that means all the times it ended badly… the world where I put you in a wheelchair… oh my God, Chloe. I'm so sorry."

"Look, don't stress about that right now. You have another Chloe who needs you. And you have Rachel. I'm glad you finally got to meet her."

"I'm glad too." She frowned. "I'm sorry for leaving you behind."

"Like I just said, you didn't. And I would have been okay with it even if you did. You brought Rachel Amber back to life. I'd have sacrificed anything for that."

It started to rain, and the tornado began to form again. "But it's all going to end soon. How do I stop this? And when's it going to happen?"

"Oh, that one's easy. What night of the year do all the devils come out?"

She smacked her forehead for missing something so obvious. "Duh. There's Halloween decorations down there."

"Exactly. It's a bigger head start than you had before. Here's hoping you figure something out by then."

"I hope so too."

They stood there, holding hands, watching as the fire below was snuffed out. Max could see a few shadowed figures down below, scrambling to get out of the way. She heard a scream of pure, unadulterated rage, and then the tornado ripped everything to shreds.

In the blackness that followed, she heard Chloe's voice. "You're almost out of here, Max. There's just one more thing you need to remember."

* * *

"What the hell is this…?"

Chloe was sitting at the computer again, with Max's past self standing over her shoulder. "What?"

"Okay, it's not the whole story, and parts of it definitely need explaining, but you're right about everything leading back to Rachel. And I think the Prescotts have something to do with it too."

"Yeah, no shit."

Shaking her head, she turned to face her fully. "No, this shit goes _deep_. You remember that email you found in Nathan's room from his father? The one where he talked about his 'destiny?'"

Past Max nodded.

"What did the Prescott family regularly make the news for?"

"I don't know. Laying people off, bullying small businesses, ruining the environment…"

"Exactly. They did some sort of nautical work for the military that had some nasty side effects on Arcadia Bay. Fish started disappearing, then the dock workers got laid off, and then shit really started going sideways when you started fucking around with time."

"Yeah, thanks for the reminder."

"Not the point. Now I was able to look up most of their public holdings, as well as newspaper articles from the last century. About thirty years ago, a lot of these records start mentioning a woman named Sera. That's what caught my attention."

She blinked and leaned her head back. "Why?"

"Because Sera was Rachel's biological mother."

"Holy shit."

"Everything the Prescotts ever worked for threatened the environment. And they've been here ever since the Ezekiel Blackwell's first expedition. Rachel's mother was involved with them, and that means it all ties into Rachel somehow too."

Past Max nodded. "When I saw the doe in the junkyard, it was standing on her grave. It was in my vision of the tornado too. It guided us to the lighthouse. I think it was Rachel's ghost. That means she's connected to more than just the Prescotts. I think her death might have set everything in motion."

"It goes deeper than that. The first day I met her, we saw Sera in Overlook Park meeting Rachel's father. She didn't know Sera was her mother at the time, and I didn't know who either of them were. But Rachel got so upset she burned a photo of her dad, dropped it in a trash can, then kicked it over and started a wildfire."

"Holy shit."

Chloe smirked. "You're not the only one who unleashed mass destruction on Arcadia Bay. I didn't pay much attention to it at the time, but people were talking about how the fire wasn't exactly… normal."

"What do you mean?"

"It was burning way hotter and way faster than the experts predicted. If it wasn't for everything else we've been through I'd say this was crazy, but I think it did that because it was tied to Rachel's emotions. She was a total mess that weekend." She glared at the desk and frowned, interlacing her fingers. "Now imagine how much worse it would be if she got killed before she could leave that shithole of a town. Imagine what would happen if her spirit wanted revenge."

"We don't have to," said Max. "We already lived through it."

"I know. Which is why I think it's time I gave you this." Reaching across the desk, she procured a small instant photograph and handed it to Max. "Don't rip this one in half."

She glanced at it, then moved her eyes back to Chloe. "Why are you giving me this?"

"Check out the date on the back."

"April Twentieth."

"That's two days before Rachel disappeared." Her face grew solemn. "There's only so many answers we can get this way, Max. And it's too late for them to matter. I've been holding onto that for the last week because I wanted to make sure you were ready when I gave it to you."

"Chloe, I'm not! I won't abandon you again!"

"You won't be. This way neither of us has to die. Phones still work when you rewind with a photo, right?"

She nodded.

"Then save Rachel. Save me from ever having to lose her." She smiled. "It's all I've ever wanted."

"But what'll happen to you?"

Chloe shrugged. "I'll still be with you. Somehow. Even if it's just in your memory. And you'll get to know a new version of me. One that never had to deal with losing Rachel."

"Chloe, the last time I did this… the last time I brought back someone you cared about… I made everything worse. That's why I tore up the photo I took in the bathroom. I can't fix a problem caused by too much time travel with more time travel."

"This is different, Max. And if you fuck up, you can just jump back to this timeline and we can start over from square one."

She stood there for a long time, her eyes closed. Finally she nodded, a grave, determined expression on her face.

"Okay. But not right this second. Let me spend a little more time with you."

"Max, there's no point putting off the inevitable."

"Yes there is," she said, leaning forward to kiss her.

The scene shifted, and they reappeared in a slightly more disheveled state, having passed an indeterminate amount of time. Past Max was staring at the photograph, but spared a final glance at Chloe.

"Kiss for good luck?"

She obliged, embracing her. "I love you, Max Caulfield. Until the end of time."

"I love you too, Chloe Price. In every version of reality."

They shared one final, passionate kiss, and then they separated once more. Max focused on the photo.

"Go save the day, Super Max."

Everything faded once again, and Max closed her eyes, reclining on the bed, listening to the gentle trickling of the rain.


	10. Deep Secrets of the Earth

**Chapter Ten  
** Deep Secrets of the Earth

Hearing was the sense that returned to her first, her ears picking out a melancholy tune floating gently out of a radio. Then she could feel again, her face pressed into soft denim that radiated heat, warming up her cheek. She smelled a strange mix of jasmine and something grittier, close enough that she could taste it as well.

Finally, Max cracked her eyes open, blinking slowly in the evening light, the sun barely above the horizon. She beheld the side of a truck bed, the tan paint having peeled in several places, leaving rust in its wake. A hand was running through her hair, while another stroked her shoulder. She moaned and looked up.

"She lives," said Chloe, staring down at her and continuing to move her hand over Max's arm. "Welcome back, Rip Van Max."

Squinting, Max turned her eyes to the hand touching her hair, and saw Rachel's face above it. "How long have I been out?"

"From what I hear, about an hour. Chloe called me and we met up. We almost took you to the hospital."

She shook her head vigorously, trying to clear it of cobwebs. "Why didn't you?"

Chloe shrugged. "Wanted to see if you'd come out of it on your own first. This _is_ kinda what you were trying to do."

"Not like this." Pushing down hard with one arm, she rose and sat across from them. From her higher vantage point, she could see that they had moved, though the truck was still parked somewhere in the woods, off the main road. "I had the _craziest_ fucking nightmare. Actually, I'm not sure it was a nightmare. I went to some place called the Dead Side of Forever."

Both of them stared at her with blank expressions. "The what now?"

"You've been there too," she said, looking at Chloe. "When you had those dreams about your dad. He told me to say hi, by the way."

"Wait, you saw him? For real?"

Max nodded. "He was one of the few people I saw in there that wasn't out to fuck with my head. It wasn't the first time I'd been there, but I still wasn't prepared for any of it. I only made it out because of you."

"What'd I do?"

"You showed me the way." She smiled. "Like always."

Rachel was still looking at her in bewilderment. "What are both of you talking about?"

"Sorry." Max turned to face her. "That nightmare I told you about this morning… I had another one, and ended up back in the same place. I'm still not sure what it was, but it's connected to my visions. I think it's some kind of place between realities, and occasionally I cross over into it. Chloe's done it too."

"Right around the time I met you," said Chloe, "I kept having dreams about my dad. But everything about them was super freaky, and I think they told me the future. I saw a poster for _The Tempest_ with me dressed as Ariel, the day before it actually happened. And right before you burned down Overlook Park, I saw you catch on fire."

Reeling back, the other girl's eyes shot wide open and she stared at both of them in confusion.

"Everything in there is some kind of mental landscape made up of fragments of your life," said Max. "And all of it's rearranged to mess with your head and make you go crazy. I met… something in there. Something that rules that place. I'm still not sure what it wanted with me."

She puffed her cheeks and exhaled slowly through her mouth. "Holy shit. And I thought the time travel was freaky."

"Did you at least find what you were looking for?" asked Chloe.

"Yeah. The tornado's gonna happen on Halloween."

"Wait, what?" Rachel was back to freak-out mode. "What tornado?"

"I had another vision of it," she revealed. "But this time it wasn't threatening the whole town, just Pan Estates. Chloe and I went there earlier, and then I fell unconscious. I had to find my way through that maze just to get back to my vision. We have ten days to figure out how to stop it."

They both looked at her despairingly. Chloe sat cross-legged and leaned against the sides of the truck bed at an angle, while Rachel clasped her hands together in front of her ankles and rested her chin on her knees.

Frowning, Chloe stared off into the distance, towards the town. "Should we try to warn people?"

"Who would believe us?" Rachel asked, chuckling darkly. "We're just three punk teenagers in a small town. Nobody cares what we have to say."

"And it's not like before," said Max. "There's no freak snowfall or weird eclipses this time. No dying animals. Nothing strange we can point to."

The blue-haired girl nodded. "So at the very least we know it's not your fault."

"It doesn't make a fucking difference anyway." Rachel was glaring at a particular spot of rust, focusing all of her hatred upon it. "You said the tornado's gonna take out Pan Estates, right? I say let it happen."

"Hey, I said that too!" She smiled wryly. "But it's still close enough to town that a lot of people could get hurt who don't deserve it."

A spiteful laugh escaped her lips. "When did our lives get this fucking serious? Why can't we just be normal teenage girls?"

"Please, we never have been. But I get what you mean. I'd rather just be off shooting the shit with both of you in the junkyard."

Max smiled. "Believe me, after everything I've been through, I wish my life could be normal. But in a weird way, all this crazy bullshit brought us together. If it wasn't for my powers… I wouldn't be sitting here with either of you."

"I know, Max." Chloe leaned forward and rubbed her shoulder. "I'm glad things worked out this way."

"I am too," said Rachel, moving closer and latching onto Max in a side hug that was also a slow motion tackle. "But we really need to get going. We're due to meet Sam in like twenty minutes."

"Right." Chloe detached her hand from Max and hopped out of the truck bed, and the two of them followed suit. "I almost forgot we're about to meet someone who could land us in federal prison if we're caught associating with him."

Rachel grinned as they all clambered into the truck, with Max sitting in the middle. "How fucking punk is that?"

* * *

"Well, if it isn't the wonder triplets."

Samantha Black Elk stood in front of the bar with her arms crossed, staring over the trio. Max was in the middle, crossing one arm over her chest and clutching the other. Chloe had folded both of her arms and stood facing slightly away, while Rachel had one hand on her left hip.

By this time the sun had finished its descent, and the moon had risen in its place. This far away from the lights of Arcadia Bay, they could see an entire galaxy above them, an image from millions of years ago frozen in time, having just reached their eyes even though several of them were long dead.

"Hey Sam," she said. "We're ready when you are."

Nodding gruffly, she tossed something their way, which Rachel caught deftly in one hand. She unraveled the pile of fabric to reveal three long strips of cloth, examining them with a grimace before fixing a deadpan gaze upon her.

"Seriously?"

"Put 'em on and get in the van," Sam ordered, turning around and walking towards the van in question. "And don't ask questions."

Chloe opened her mouth to defy that directive, but Rachel waved her hand. "If we get caught and someone brings us in for questioning, we can honestly say we have no idea where Joseph Black Elk is hiding."

Leaning closer to Max as they walked, the blue-haired girl whispered into her ear. "Still think this is a good idea?"

"Please, I was against it from the start."

"Great. Just fabulous."

The three of them hopped into the van as ordered, tying the blindfolds around their eyes. There were two benches running parallel to the sides of the van. Chloe sat in the middle of the passenger's side, with Rachel on her right near the front of the vehicle and Max closer to the back. Sam climbed into the driver's seat, or so they presumed from what they heard, then the motor started with a healthy roar. The tires kicked up a storm of gravel that pelted the sides of the van, before finally hitting asphalt.

"So Sam," said Chloe after a few minutes. "How long have you and Rachel known each other?"

"What'd I say about questions?"

"I just figured that meant questions about where exactly we're going," she replied. "Which I don't give a shit about. It's just weird that Rachel talks about you like you're old friends even though she didn't move here until like tenth grade."

"My family and I spent time here before we moved for real," said Rachel. "Sam and I met at summer camp."

"See, that's the other thing. You said Sam's three years older than you. What were you doing at the same summer camp? Was she a counselor or something?

"There's a lot of summer camps that have kids from different age groups," she countered. "Why do you care so much about this anyway?"

"Just making conversation. No telling how long this ride's gonna be."

"No questions means no questions," said Sam, cranking up the heavy metal track playing on the radio. "Now shut up."

Chloe shrugged, grinning like a punk. "Sure. Whatever you say."

* * *

"We're here."

Max felt a tap on her shoulder and bolted awake, confused by the darkness before she remembered the blindfold. Old hinges squealed as Sam pulled open the doors.

"You can take 'em off now. Follow me."

The three of them obeyed, hopping down one by one into soft earth covered in pine needles. They were deep in the forest, with no real landmarks around to speak of. Squirrels flitted quickly between the trees, and somewhere in the distance a raven cawed. Spears of silver moonlight punched through the canopy in places, forming crosshatched shadows on the ground that stood apart like solitary islands in the boundless darkness.

Sam cracked a glowstick in her hands, and an eerie green light began to blossom inside it. She passed it back to Rachel before activating another, this time blue, which she handed to Chloe. Max received one in red, while Sam kept a purple one for herself.

They walked in silence for several minutes before they saw the shadows of tents lingering ominously in the darkness. They heard the soft crunch of pine needles to their right, and saw a large Native American man wearing a forest green sweatshirt under camouflage-patterned body armor, an assault rifle strapped to his shoulder. Max and Rachel stepped back instinctively, but Chloe kept on walking. Sam gave him a nod, and he allowed them to pass.

"This is some serious _Apocalypse Now_ shit," Chloe whispered, leaning in closer to Max and Rachel. "I bet these guys would get along great with step-crack."

"Not the time for jokes, Chloe," Rachel whispered back. "For once just… don't be you."

"Who do you want me to be, then?"

"Someone who doesn't say the wrong thing and ruin what we came here for. Max's power can only go so far."

"And it's been seriously unreliable today," whispered Max. "Don't count on me."

"Jesus, okay. I'll try and restrain myself. Scout's honor."

"You weren't even in the scouts."

" _Love_ those cookies, though."

"You don't have to whisper," Sam said loudly from in front of them. "Nobody here gives a shit what you're talking about."

The three of them clammed up and continued to follow, passing more sentries as they headed to a tent on the far edge of the camp, which had two guards in front of it, one of which Chloe recognized. She squinted and leaned her head back just to be sure.

He looked at her in shock as well, clearly having the same realization. His thick arms were covered with traditional Samoan tattoos, along with his face. He leaned to the side and pointed in her direction. "What's _she_ doing here?"

Raising an eyebrow, Sam turned around and glanced at Chloe. "You two know each other?"

"I wouldn't say that," said Chloe, stepping forward with her thumbs dipped inside her pockets. "But the last time we saw each other he was standing guard too. How's your bike these days? Still rocking the flowers?"

He gave a hearty chuckle. "You know it."

Max stared at them with the most helpless puppy dog face Chloe had ever seen her make. Grinning widely, she shook her head and stumbled closer to her. "The night I met Rachel, this dude was standing guard outside the old mill. I had to talk my way past him."

"Didn't get a better fight out of anyone else that night. It's too bad that place burned down."

"So are you a professional security guard or are you down with the cause?"

He tilted his head back skeptically. "What cause is that?"

"Uh…" She glanced around awkwardly. "Nevermind."

He laughed again, then turned to Sam. "He's ready."

She nodded, then looked back over her shoulder at the three of them before nodding her head towards the tent. They entered silently, without protest, and Sam followed after them.

* * *

The inside of the tent held a table buried under various maps and documents, lit with a golden hue by multiple electric lamps. The space clearly wasn't meant for sleeping, and all of them fit comfortably inside it, slowly making their way towards the middle, where a man was leaning over the table, his hands splaying out a large blueprint as he scowled at it with great determination.

He looked to be in far greater health than Chloe or Max had anticipated, grey-haired but exceptionally spry, moving with the grace of a man twenty years his junior. Not that they could tell much when his only movements so far had been to occasionally circle something on the blueprint with a red marker, not even looking up to greet them. But there was an aura about him, something cunning and dangerous. He looked like a man of great wisdom, but also one who was never more at home than on a battlefield.

He wore a tan leather jacket and a turquoise bolo tie, his hair secured behind his head in a grey ponytail. His deep bronze skin had not been too thoroughly plagued by wrinkles, save for the crow's feet at the corners of his eyes. Those eyes squinted occasionally, and the wrinkles became more pronounced. Overall however, he didn't look nearly as old as Rachel had made him sound.

"So," he said in a smooth baritone, his eyes still fixed to the blueprint in front of him, which they could now see depicted Pan Estates. "What can I do for you?"

Rachel stepped forward, arms folded over her chest. "Hello, Mr. Black Elk. It's been a while."

He paused, remaining completely still for several moments before slowly raising his head to look at her. "Indeed," he said. "It has."

"I'm here for information," she continued. "It's gonna sound a little crazy, but bear with me."

Chuckling, Joseph Black Elk removed his hands from the table and gave her his full attention. "If there's one word I don't think belongs in the English language, it's 'crazy.' People often use it to dismiss something they aren't interested in understanding. It's a survival instinct. But instinct is a lie, told by a dying body, hoping to be wrong."

Raising an eyebrow, Chloe reared her head back and stared at him in utter bewilderment. "The hell does that mean?"

"It means," he said with a confident smile, "that it doesn't pay to write things off as impossible or crazy. Not until you've thoroughly considered them."

"We're in agreement there," said Rachel. "These are my friends, by the way. Chloe Price and Max Caulfield."

"I'm aware." His eyes briefly met theirs before returning to Rachel. "Samantha vetted them before arranging this meeting."

"Seriously?" Chloe whipped her head around to glare at Sam. "What'd you dig up?"

"That you never got over your daddy issues and this one _wants_ to be a hipster but can't quite go all the way with it." She shrugged. "Boring shit. What matters is you're both clean, or at least you're not the kind of dirty that'll put us in danger."

"Damn, and here I thought I was special."

Max rolled her eyes. "Chloe…"

"What?"

"Don't worry; you're not going to ruffle any feathers," said Joseph, reaching out his hand in a pacifying motion. "Let's return to the matter at hand. What information do you require?"

Tucking a stray hair behind her ear, Rachel sighed deeply and began. "I'm wondering what you can tell me about… wow, I have no idea how to phrase this." She shook her head. "See, I think Arcadia Bay and I are linked together somehow, but…"

Rachel sighed, her arms dropping to her sides. She turned around, looking at Max. "There's no way to ask the questions I need to without telling them the whole story."

Joseph quirked an eyebrow, but said nothing. Max stared for several moments, before nodding. Rachel nodded back, and turned to Sam. "Do you remember when I had Max tell the future the other night? That wasn't just a trick."

"Oh yeah?"

"And it wasn't just me telling the future," said Max. "I saw all those things happen, then I rewound time and lived through it all over again."

She crossed her arms and leaned backward, her face sporting an incredulous expression. "You _rewound time_?"

"It isn't a joke," she insisted, sending a gesture in Joseph's direction. "He just said you should keep an open mind."

"Yeah, but time travel? I'd believe you more if you said you were psychic. At least that involves calculated guessing. Any two-bit charlatan could have dreamed up something like what you told me. And how do I know I wouldn't have handled that guy the same way if you hadn't put the idea in my head?"

"Look, I couldn't wrap my head around it at first either," said Chloe. "But she knows things she couldn't possibly have found out any other way. It's real."

She waved a hand dismissively and turned her eyes to the ceiling. "If you say so."

"Max's power is the reason I'm even standing here talking to you right now," continued Rachel. "In another timeline, another world, I'm supposed to be dead. And because of her, I'm not."

Sam and Joseph exchanged a look, then shrugged. "I'm not sure how much I'd be able to tell you about that," he said. "Time travel isn't really my area of expertise."

"That's not the question." She waved her hand back and forth in front of her. "The reason she went back and saved me is because, in the timeline she came from, a tornado wiped out Arcadia Bay, after the weather went batshit for a week and all the animals died. She thinks it had something to do with me dying."

Max nodded and stepped forward. "In the other timeline, Rachel's ghost appeared to me as a doe, and it led me and Chloe to the lighthouse, where we'd be safe from the tornado. I think Rachel has some sort of spiritual connection to Arcadia Bay, strong enough that when she died, the laws of nature broke down to the point where me getting time travel powers wasn't even the fifth weirdest thing that happened that week."

"Hm." He placed a finger to his chin and began to pace, then settled his gaze on her again. "That… I might be able to shed some light on."

"What's happening with me?" asked Rachel, looking at him pleadingly. "What am I?"

"What you are," said Joseph, "is an unwitting thief."

The three of them took a step back, as if struck. "What?"

He stretched out his hand and closed his eyes, motioning for them to remain calm.

"What you describe… it wasn't ever meant for you. The power you have was stolen from us, from our people, more than a hundred years ago. Before the expedition came this land was a paradise, watched over by a benevolent mother spirit. Now…"

"It's a shit pit," Chloe said with her trademark bluntness.

He nodded sagely. "Because of the Prescott family. The Blackwells desired to live in harmony with the tribes, but the Prescotts… they came because of the power held in this land. And they will not rest until it is drained entirely."

"So how is Rachel the thief?"

"As I said, the power she holds was not originally contained inside a human vessel. It belonged to the land. But that all changed."

"When?" asked Max. "And how?"

"There was a ritual," said Rachel, quietly. "Ms. Grant told me it's why your family was banished, but your ancestors weren't the ones performing it, were they?"

Joseph shook his head. "They were trying to stop it."

"But she wasn't even born in Arcadia Bay," protested Chloe, moving forward as if to shield Rachel. "And how would a ritual from a hundred years ago give her powers like that?"

"I'm not sure. All I know is that the ritual was stopped before it could be completed, leaving the fate of the land tied to whoever possesses the other half of its spirit. I have no idea how it ended up inside of her."

"I might," said Max, so quietly that only Chloe heard her.

"What?"

"I said I might know what happened," she repeated, a little louder. She clutched her upper arm, looking as though she wanted to retreat into herself. "Or at least where the next lead is."

"Well?" Rachel turned to face her. "What is it?"

She breathed in deeply, closing her eyes. "Before I left the other timeline, Chloe and I found out that your biological mother was involved with the Prescott family somehow. Her name was all over their files, going back at least thirty years."

Chloe and Rachel exchanged a glance. "You're sure?"

"I'm sure."

"Frank _did_ say she was causing a lot of trouble when she showed up three years ago," said Chloe. "But it's not like we can ask her now."

Rachel nodded. "But we _can_ ask the Prescotts."

"How's that gonna work? Nathan's one shitty day away from shooting up Blackwell, and good luck getting anything out of his dad. They're not gonna tell us shit."

"Who said anything about asking them ourselves?" She turned to Joseph. "You have people who can look into it, right?"

He nodded solemnly. "We have assets embedded within the Prescott organization. Nobody has managed to penetrate the higher levels yet, but we're making headway. I don't know how much they'll be able to discover, however."

Max jerked stiffly upright as something occurred to her. "There's someone else we know on the inside."

"Who?"

"David Madsen. He's Chloe's step-father and Head of Security at Blackwell. Chloe and I were investigating Pan Estates earlier, and we saw him talking to Sean Prescott. They were going over plans for surveillance cameras or something."

"Oh, no _fucking_ way!" Chloe shouted, sweeping her hand in front of her. "We are _not_ telling step-douche about this!"

"Do you have any better ideas? I'll admit that he's an asshole and he scares me sometimes, but he's a good man underneath it all."

"Yeah, mom's been telling me that for three years and I still haven't seen the guy she keeps talking about. You might think you know him, but you haven't had to live with him like I have. We can't trust him."

"Maybe you haven't seen any other side of him because all you do is treat him like the enemy," said Rachel. "You're right; he's a paranoid fascist with PTSD issues who thinks he's still at war. But that could make him useful."

Chloe grumbled aloud. "What guarantee do we have that he'd even be on our side?"

"Like I told you earlier, David saved my life in the other timeline," said Max. "And the whole reason he was acting so suspicious of everybody was because he wanted to find out what happened to Rachel just like we did. I don't think he'd be working for the Prescotts just for their money. He might be trying to investigate them already."

"Fine." She threw her arms up and turned away in disgust. "But you can be the ones to talk to him about it. I'm staying out of it."

"We'll check with our informants just in case," said Joseph. "Samantha will be in contact with you if we learn anything. Was there anything else you wished to discuss?"

Rachel shook her head. "Thank you for the answers you gave us. This whole thing just keeps getting weirder. Sometimes I regret not leaving Arcadia Bay when I had the chance."

"What's stopping you?" asked Sam.

"I don't know. But I need to get to the bottom of this or it'll haunt me for the rest of my life."

"Fair enough."

"We'll be here to help you." Max placed a hand on her shoulder, and Chloe latched onto the other one.

"Yeah. Both of us. Until the end."

She smiled. "Thanks."

Joseph bowed. "Samantha will show you out now. Until we meet again."


	11. Restless

**Chapter Eleven**  
Restless

Max had never quite been able to articulate the feeling she experienced whenever she moved through a large public space in the pale stillness of the night. There was something uncanny and ominous about seeing a place that bustled by day rendered vacant and silent, which in turn engendered feelings that couldn't be fully translated through a photograph. It was an entirely singular emotion, fleeting and yet powerfully omnipresent. Like she didn't belong.

She stalked through the dormitory courtyard, having turned down the offers of both Rachel and Chloe to spend the night at their homes. Paradoxically enough, after her trip to the Dead Side of Forever, Max wanted nothing more than to be alone with her thoughts. She needed time to untangle the miles of scarlet thread that connected the various pieces of the vast conspiracy that her life had become in such a short time. It was almost impossible to believe that, chronologically speaking, she had been a nominally ordinary, self-absorbed teenager two and a half weeks ago. It felt like so much longer.

The questions raised by the meeting with Joseph Black Elk refused to leave her mind, like a stain that wouldn't quite wash out. Why and how was Rachel tied to Arcadia Bay? How was it related to her powers? What did the Prescotts know about it? And where did the tornado fit into it all?

Max shook her head to clear it, making her way through the double doors and up to the hallway where her long, crazy journey could end for the day. The dorm was empty and still, and everyone's doors were shut for the night. She creeped past Dana's room, past the bathroom, and finally arrived in the sanctuary of her own quarters. Depositing her bag at the foot of her bed, Max collapsed on top of her mattress face-first, her left arm dangling perilously over the edge.

Despite her exhaustion, however, sleep did not come. Her mind was still afire with thoughts of how best to handle the next ten days, before the tornado arrived. Was it actually possible to prevent it? Was she even supposed to? Or had this whole ordeal never been about that in the first place? What if she was only meant to survive it?

Groaning loudly, she flipped over and lay on her back, her speakers looming high above her as she stared upwards. Even with all the answers she had now, there were always more questions.

There was a knock at the door.

Max regarded the door with a blank stare, certain that she had imagined it. Another knock sounded, and she slowly lurched over to it, pulling it open with eyes half lidded, and saw Kate Marsh standing on the other side of the threshold in her pajamas. She breathed in sharply, stumbling back and dragging the door open further.

"Kate!"

"Hey, Max. I heard you get back just now. I wanted to make sure you're okay."

She blinked, standing there stunned. "You're worried about _me_ being okay?"

"You kind of freaked everybody out today when you ran out of Mr. Jefferson's class," she explained. "Even Victoria's worried about you."

"Really?" Her eyes found Victoria's door, which was shut tight. "Let's not do this out here. Come in."

Kate obliged, and Max led her over to the small couch on the opposite wall, moving her guitar out of the way. They sat down side by side, and Kate left one foot on the floor while resting her knee next to her chin. Max sat cross-legged beside her.

"You don't have to worry about me, Kate," she insisted. "I'm doing fine. A little stressed, but fine."

"You shouldn't lie," the other girl replied, regarding her with a flat expression and narrowed eyes. "You're not very good at it."

Despite everything, Max started laughing, careful to keep the volume down. "Okay, you caught me. It's been a hella strange couple of weeks for me. I'm… barely holding on."

Kate reached out and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "I noticed. You look like you've been through hell."

"In more ways than one," she muttered, glancing to the side. "How could you tell?"

"You saw me when I thought I was invisible," she said. "I know the signs to look for."

Max stared down at the floor, nodding her head slowly. "I appreciate you looking out for me. But I'm not sure it's something you can help with."

"Maybe not me," she said. "But God can help. If you let him."

A dark chuckle escaped her. "I don't really think God and I are on speaking terms."

How was she supposed to have faith in anything when she knew exactly how many ways someone's world could get ripped asunder for no good reason? Rachel was right; there was no higher plan. No destiny. Just a whirling maelstrom of pure chaos that devoured the hopes and dreams of anyone foolish enough to think it all meant something.

"Hey." Kate halted her downward spiral with a word and leaned in closer. "I understand how you feel. After everything that happened to me, I thought God would never forgive me. But you showed me I was thinking about it all wrong. What happened wasn't my fault, and even if it was, that wouldn't matter to Him. It's not your fault, Max."

She turned her head slowly upward to meet her eyes. "You sure about that?"

"Positive. I won't push my faith on you. But at least let me be here for you, like you were there for me."

Max nodded, feeling tears begin to fall down her cheeks. "I'd like that."

Leaning in closer, Kate enveloped her in a hug, and that strange feeling of not belonging began to fade, replaced with warm, unconditional acceptance and love. And like the eye of a hurricane, everything went still, even if it was only for a moment.

* * *

"You know, with how often I drive people around, I ought to put a meter in this thing," Chloe remarked as she sped down the open road, away from where she had dropped Max off at Blackwell. Rachel had left her car at home for some reason, having opted to walk to school that morning, and currently occupied the passenger's seat next to her.

"Who opens a taxi business in a town this small? Besides, I dropped you off on Friday, remember?"

Rachel was leaning back, left foot planted on the seat with her knee high in the air, and her right arm dangling out the open window. She took a drag on her cigarette, exhaling and letting the smoke scatter in the wind. Every few seconds the passing streetlights cast their glow upon her, her hair billowing out behind her while she sat there serenely.

"Fair enough. But I can dream, right?"

"I guess so."

Chloe pursed her lips, watching the road ahead as the headlights formed their own horizon, cutting a path through the darkness. "So that didn't go as horribly as I thought it would."

"Huh?"

"Back at the camp. You told me not to show off my usual charms, meaning you were afraid I'd fuck everything up if I said the wrong thing. But they seemed pretty easygoing."

"I meant not to ask questions like the ones you did on the ride over there," Rachel clarified. "The Black Elks are willing to give away information if it helps their cause, but they don't take kindly to prying. You saw how Sam reacted when you tried to dig deeper into how she and I know each other."

"Because your story was full of holes," she replied. "It still seems a little fishy to me. How do you just happen to know the granddaughter of a domestic terrorist?"

"How do I happen to know a girl with time travel powers?" She chuckled and shook her head. "I didn't always know who Joseph Black Elk was, and he wasn't even the target of an investigation until after my dad became the DA three years ago. That's right around the time Sean Prescott started gaining more influence in Arcadia Bay."

"Yeah, I remember he laid off those dock workers," said Chloe. "I'm all for fighting the power, but using bombs and shit… that all seems a little too next level. You really want to trust a guy like that to give us answers?"

"Well, you're not willing to trust a man who's already on the inside, so…"

"You're seriously overestimating how useful that toolbox would actually be. He's a security guard at a high school where the worst thing that ever happens is Justin puking in the Bigfoots' laundry basket because he got too high."

"Really? I thought it was the psycho photography professor who drugs and kidnaps girls and takes them to his weird photo torture dungeon."

Chloe was instantly buried under a metric fuckton of regret, and sent a sheepish glance her way. "Right. Forgot about that. That still proves my point. David hasn't figured that out even though Max says he tailed Nathan and Jefferson all over town."

"Meaning we have to deal with that too. I still don't see the problem with just telling him."

"I don't see how we'd be able to explain how we know all this shit," she retorted. "We need evidence."

"Agreed. We should start gathering it as soon as possible. Before he hurts anyone else."

"Got that right." She smacked her hands against the steering wheel as something else occurred to her. "Aw, fuck."

"What?"

"On top of all this other shit, Frank wants to collect. He gave me until Thursday, and told me to bring you along. You still have the money, right?"

She nodded. "Of course. Well… not all of it. But I can make it up from my other savings."

"Good. We seriously need to settle with him so I don't have to keep buying pot from skeevy assholes who'd just as soon knife you as look at you. Scary as he is, I always felt like I could trust Frank not to screw me over. Why'd we keep that money for so long, anyway? It's not like we even used it."

"Actually, I've been making up for it with the money I get from my dad," said Rachel, gesturing around at the inside of the truck. "You had to fix this thing up a few months ago, remember?"

She nodded. "I thought I still owed that."

"Not anymore. Frank's still way more forgiving than that credit card they made you sign up for."

Chloe laughed. "Ain't that the truth."

"We still have two days before the deadline. That's plenty of time. Besides, think about it: Frank sells drugs to Nathan, and he has underworld connections. He could help us find more answers."

"If he even wants anything to do with us after we left him hanging for so long."

Chuckling, she took one last drag of her cigarette and reached her arm out the window, abandoning it to the wind. "Trust me, he'll be on board. Just leave the talking to me."

They passed the next few minutes in silence, until finally Chloe pulled off the highway and entered Rachel's neighborhood, with its ranch-style houses favored by those Arcadia Bay residents who had the money to live elsewhere, but stayed here out of necessity, or because they served some vital function in town. Besides Pan Estates, it was one of the places Chloe wouldn't mind seeing leveled by a tornado.

Still, she had to admit: they _were_ nice houses.

"Hey, park here."

Arching an eyebrow, she reared her head back and spared her a sidelong glance. "Why? Your house is still like half a mile that way."

Rachel leaned against the door and smiled mysteriously. "I know, but… I want you to walk me home."

"Uh… you're kidding, right?"

She leaned forward and placed her hands on Chloe's leg. "Never been more serious. Come on, it'll be great."

"Fine." Rolling her eyes, she parked next to the curb, with Rachel's house not even in sight. "But you're letting me crash, because I don't know if I can face step-dick right now."

Hopping out of the passenger's side, Rachel grinned even wider. "Exactly what I was hoping for."

They started walking along the street, the lights above them guiding them forward. Chloe's sourness evaporated under Rachel's eager gaze, and the two of them slalomed back and forth in the cold still night.

"You remember the first time we did this?" she asked, whizzing behind Chloe with her arms held out to her sides, spinning around as she expelled the nervous energy that had been building up all day. Chloe watched with a soft smile as the other girl buzzed around her.

"How could I forget? Before all this happened that was the craziest weekend of my life." She smirked. "You actually had me convinced that we could run away together."

Rachel came to a rest in front of her, walking backwards as they continued heading towards her house. "We still can. And now we have Max, so nothing can stop us; not even time itself. But like I said, I need to know exactly what's tying me to this place. Doesn't it seem super fucking weird that every time we're almost out of here, something keeps us from leaving?"

"Yeah, but we could just be subconsciously looking for reasons to stay." Chloe extended her hand out with her wrist drooped, turning her eyes skyward. "As much as I complain about things at home, I've never quite been able to abandon my mom. Even when I feel like she's left me behind."

"That's what I've always figured too. But think about it. You and Max both made contact with some sort of spirit that's connected to the land around here, and I supposedly have part of one living inside me. It sounds completely insane, but at the same time it makes so much sense, you know? I don't believe in destiny, but what are the chances that the three of us ended up being best friends? There's got to be something bigger at work here."

"You mean whatever these spirits are… they somehow drew us together?"

"Exactly!" She moved in a quarter circle, coming around to Chloe's side and keeping pace with her. "The first time we spent the day together, we both knew there was something special and intense going on with us. Something that wasn't normal. You really think it's a coincidence that you started having those dreams right around the time you met me?"

"Okay, but what was the point of all that? You fucking died in another timeline, for no good reason. Hell, so did I, and Max ended up discovering her powers because of that. Are you saying that was meant to happen?"

"Of course not. Nothing has any inherent meaning. But we can _make_ it mean something. And now we know that something is manipulating events, on a way more tangible scale than something like God or chaos theory. It's a lot easier to prove a conspiracy if you know the players involved."

"But we don't," Chloe insisted. "All we know is that Sera was somehow involved with the Prescotts, and the Prescotts have something planned for Arcadia Bay. We still have no idea where Max's powers or my nightmares from three years ago even fit into it."

"All the more reason we should find out!" Skipping ahead, she spun around a streetlamp once and flung herself back towards Chloe, who absorbed the impact and pushed her back. "But enough about that for one night. Let's talk about us."

"I thought we were."

She waved a hand in front of her face. "Not what I meant. Hanging out with you and Max these last few days… it reminded me of when we first met. Back when everything was so much simpler." They stopped, and Rachel turned to face her, tucking a few strands of hair behind her ear. "Back when everything was possible."

Chloe stared at her pensively, her head reared back, eyes narrowed. Rachel continued to smile at her, staring at her with intense desire.

"Don't you miss those days?"

"I do, but…" She looked away, closing her eyes and shaking her head. "Damn it, why'd you have to pick today to suddenly be interested in me again?"

Rachel blinked, staring at her with a blank expression. "What do you mean?"

"When Max and I went to Pan Estates, before she passed out, we kinda…" She scratched the back of her head, not meeting the other girl's eyes. "We kissed."

She heard a laugh, and saw Rachel was still smiling at her when she turned back. "Is that all?"

"What do you mean, 'is that all?' It's kind of a big deal!"

"No, no, I totally get it." Rachel held her hands up in front of her chest. "But unless you two promised to go steady right on the spot, I don't see how it affects this moment."

"I don't know, Rachel. This feels wrong."

"You know, she said the same thing when she spent the night at my house." She tapped a finger several times against her cheek and began to circle her. "And I respected her boundaries. But you know something, Chloe? I like her the same way I like you. And I know you like her the same way you like me. And believe me, Max likes both of us back."

She came to a stop in front of her and leaned in close enough that the scent of her jasmine perfume became all-consuming. "Our hearts have always been too big to love just one person. That's one of the things that connects us together. So rather than look at that as an obstacle, why not an opportunity? The solution is totally obvious."

"Are you high right now?"

"Why don't you taste me and find out?"

Chloe sighed and pressed a palm hard against her forehead, even as her cheeks became warm and flushed and her head began to spin. Rachel Amber had always possessed a power over her, and no matter how much she tried to maneuver around it, she always ended up exactly where the other girl wanted her to be, until she had no other option but to push forward.

But was that even a bad thing?

"Okay, then." She leaned in closer, and Rachel raised her lips to meet her, until they collided moments later, the passion overflowing like a supernova.

The kiss with Max was still fresh in her memory, and where that had been warm and tender, this was raw and intense, an inferno of pent up feelings releasing all at once. They separated after mere moments, but it felt like an eternity, and they stood there staring at each other as their breath started to fog in the rapidly cooling night.

"Holy shit."

Rachel giggled. "That's what you said last time." Tilting her head to the side, she grinned ever brighter. "Does it still feel wrong?"

"No." Grasping each other's hands, they started moving again, and Chloe smiled like an idiot despite her intentions. "Man, I almost forgot how good that felt."

"So did I. I don't know how we drifted apart in the last three years. But I finally feel like anything can happen again. And we're so bringing Max on board with this."

Chloe laughed, long and loud, not caring if it woke the neighbors. "Trust me, it's not hard to convince her on anything. She'll probably just be worried about what our parents will think."

They swung their arms in tandem, twirling them around in a loop. "Fuck 'em."

"Yeah," she said, still grinning. "Fuck 'em."

They held hands the rest of the way, until finally they saw the large stone porch and stained glass doors of the Amber household, the campaign sign still embedded in the front lawn. The warm golden light behind the doors signified that someone was already home, and Chloe stopped as she noticed something awry, causing Rachel to jerk suddenly to a halt.

"What's wrong?"

She pointed. "Whose truck is that?"

It was bright red, with tan packaging tape barely covering the broken left taillight. In the dim aura provided by the street lamps, they could see the license plate read SXFTNDR.

Rachel's eyes widened, and at that moment the door opened. "Hide!" she whisper-shouted, and the two of them ducked behind a nearby bush. They watched as a figure exited the house, with auburn hair and a jacket almost as red as his truck. Chloe's eyes narrowed in hatred as his face passed under the light.

"What the fuck is Nathan Prescott doing at your house?"

The other girl glanced at her with a mixture of confusion and fear. "I didn't invite him."

"Let's wait 'til he leaves."

To his credit, Nathan didn't linger for very long, starting the truck and backing out of the driveway, then speeding down the street. They emerged from behind the bushes, sending each other a knowing glance, then headed inside.

* * *

The sound of smooth jazz assaulted her eardrums, like a wave made of boring. Chloe's eyes rolled back into her head, but she managed to recenter herself after a few moments. Setting down a small newspaper with a half-finished Sudoku puzzle, Rose Amber raised her head and looked up at them from the chair she currently occupied.

"Rachel! You're home! And you brought Chloe!"

Her grin was somewhat tight, but not forced. Chloe had never quite managed the same chemistry with the Ambers as she did with their daughter, but they had grown to tolerate each other over the last three years, their first encounter having set a strange precedent.

"Uh, yep. She's staying the night, if that's okay."

"Of course it is." She stood up and made her way closer to them as they stepped fully into the family room. "Do you girls need anything? Glass of water? Leftovers?"

Chloe shook her head and waved a hand in front of her, while Rachel merely scowled.

"What was Nathan Prescott doing here just now?"

"Oh, your friend? He actually wasn't here for you. He and James were discussing something in the study for the last hour or so. He told me Nathan's involved in some sort of mentoring program, where he's supposed to study under an influential role model in the community."

Against impossible odds, Rachel maintained her cool. "Oh, right. I remember hearing something about that. Did you hear anything they talked about?"

Rose shook her head. "I've been downstairs the whole time. It's too bad he couldn't stay for dinner, though it _is_ rather late."

"Uh, yeah," said Chloe, running a hand nervously through her hair. "Me and Rachel should probably get to bed. She's got school tomorrow."

"Well, let me know if you need anything. Good night."

Forcing a half smile onto her face, Rachel nodded. "Good night."

"Good night, Mrs. A."

They moved hurriedly up the stairs, not stopping until they arrived at Rachel's bedroom. Shutting the door behind them, Rachel collapsed against it and let out a panicked exhale. "Holy fuck."

"Holy fuck is right. 'Mentoring program?' What the hell is that a cover for?"

"I don't know. But we can't ask my dad. It'd be too obvious. We need to get Max here."

Chloe blinked, walking backwards and sitting down on the bed. "Why?"

"Because she can rewind if we get caught snooping through his files, and I'll still remember it. Besides, she's hella good at cracking conspiracies."

"Max has earned a good night's sleep," she insisted. "And so have we. Come on, Veronica Mars, let's just forget about all this shit for one night."

"Okay, but we're so adding this to the list of stuff to deal with," said Rachel, crossing the room and plopping down next to her and leaning against her shoulder. "I'm glad you're here. I suddenly don't feel safe in my own house."

"I'm glad I'm here too." She smiled. "Are we really doing it this time? Are we really gonna try and make this work?"

"I don't see why we shouldn't. Life is too fucking short not to go for the things you want. And I want you."

"I want you too. I've wanted you ever since I met you. But… why bring a third person into it? Max was my best friend in the world growing up, and kissing her earlier felt amazing, but I can't shake the feeling that she's projecting her feelings for this other Chloe onto me. What if she doesn't actually like… _me_ at all?"

Rachel sat up straighter and laughed out loud. "That is the dumbest thing I've ever heard you say. When I had her over here on Friday, she would _not_ shut up about you." She smacked Chloe's shoulder, gripping it firmly. "It's obvious she loves _every_ version of you, no matter what timeline she's in."

"Okay, what makes you so sure she likes you?"

"Why do you think I had her over? I wanted to test the waters." Her smile expanded and turned wolfish. "Believe me, she'll go for it."

Chloe stared at her, eyes narrowed, head reared back. "You weren't just messing with her when you talked about having a threesome, were you? You've been planning this."

Standing up, she threw her arms out to the side and shrugged, moving them to her hips. "Guilty as charged. So tell me, Price: are you in?"

Smirking wryly, she rose to her feet, sidling closer and locking their hands together, until only their clothing stood between them.

"Like Flynn."

There were some who might claim the second kiss was never as good as the first, but as far as Chloe was concerned, those people could suck it.


	12. Four Twenty

**Chapter Twelve  
** Four Twenty

The phone was ringing in Clayton Bradshaw's office. Possibly the only rotary phone left in existence, its strident trill was loud and unmistakable. It had to be, in order to stand apart from the cacophony of pneumatic tools and heavy thuds of engine parts that pounded out a discordant rhythm further back in the garage.

Giving one final jerk on a breaker bar that he was currently using to argue off a stubborn lug nut, Clayton lumbered over to the office with a staggered limp, not quite incapacitating but definitely enough to slow him down after the hard living of his younger years. He had broad shoulders and thick, meaty arms that had thrown footballs and punches in equal measure. Nowadays they served him well whenever power tools were unavailable.

He finished pushing open the door with a bump from his shoulder and plopped down in an old black pleather chair that had been picked at enough to expose the cushioning, and never scabbed over. Wiping his hands off using an already soiled rag, he clutched the phone in one greasy paw and held it up to his ear.

"Discount Auto Repair, Clayton Bradshaw speaking. How may I help you?"

"What do you have for me Mr. Bradshaw?"

He recognized the voice on the other end of the line immediately, shifting into a more formal posture even though the other party had no means of seeing him.

"Just what you need," he said, retrieving a key from underneath the forest of documents that covered his desk, swiveling around in his chair and unlocking a small metal filing cabinet, from which he produced a thin manila folder. He moved back to his desk and opened it, reviewing its contents before continuing. "Tight-lipped, no priors, and best of all she's the kind of kid no one suspects. They'll never see her coming."

"Do you trust her?"

"I trust that she's interested in the carrot I dangled in front of her. You know how scholarship kids are. Anything for a buck. Doesn't ask for much, either."

"Money is no object."

He laughed out loud. "Isn't this all about money?"

There was a long silence, during which Clayton's smirk faded.

"Don't push me, Mr. Bradshaw, or I'll have your entire operation shut down within twenty four hours, and the next time we speak it will be through the two-way glass in the visiting room of a federal prison."

Clayton knew that the person on the other end of the line could, and would. "Alright, don't get your panties in a wad. Should I set it up?"

Another long pause.

"Hello?"

"Set it up."

"You got it. I'll send you the bill once it's done."

There was a click, then a dial tone. Clayton reached out with one curled finger and began to rotate the dial, occasionally referring back to the number written in the file.

Neither the impending conversation, nor the one preceding it, had anything to do with auto repair.

* * *

A song flowed out of the alarm clock like a soft breeze, filling the entire room and waking the two young women who lay atop the covers, clad in remnants of their clothing from the night before. Chloe had removed her shirt and pants entirely, while Rachel's tank top barely touched her thighs as she lay face down, somehow still angelic even with her ass hanging out. Chloe propped a pillow against the wall and sat up, admiring the view.

"Mmmmmm…." Rachel moaned, arching her back as she stretched out, rising to her hands and knees before crawling over to Chloe. "Good morning."

"Good morning." They leaned towards each other, sharing a brief wake-up kiss, followed immediately by a much longer, sloppier one. "So that wasn't a dream."

"Nope." Rachel tumbled backwards, sitting cross-legged across from her. "Did you sleep well?"

"Honestly? I don't think I've ever slept better. I could get used to this."

"So could I. We still need to tell Max before we go any further, though. She'll have a lot of catching up to do as it is."

Chloe sighed and relaxed, melding further with the wall. "I still can't wrap my head around how that's gonna work. People will either think we're all cheating on each other, or they'll think we're a bunch of freaks like those cults where some dude has like thirty wives. It's enough of a headache just explaining the gay thing. Which I still haven't told my mom, by the way."

Regarding her with a charming, effervescent grin, Rachel laughed. "Since when do you give a fuck what Arcadia assholes think of you?"

"It's not me I'm worried about. I don't know if I could handle people saying mean shit about you or Max. I'd want to fight all of them, and I don't think that's physically possible."

"Then it's a good thing you're dating two girls with superpowers," she replied, tugging on the bottom of her shirt and exposing the valley between her breasts just enough for Chloe's spine to tingle. "Besides, people talk shit about us anyway. They're just jealous."

"If you say so. I can't wait to wrap up this whole mystery so we can finally leave this hellhole."

"Me too."

She swung her legs up in a wide arc, depositing both of them on the floor and bending over in a very impractical but also _very_ alluring way that she wouldn't have done if they were still just friends. Chloe smirked wryly and rolled out of bed herself, smacking Rachel on the ass as she did so. The other girl let out a small yelp, but was still smiling when she rose, and gave Chloe a wink.

"Yeah," said Chloe, fishing her clothes off the floor and throwing a shirt over her head. "I could definitely get used to this."

"I need to take a shower before school," she said as she rose with a fresh pair of jeans clutched in her hands. "Care to join me?"

Her mind went entirely blank for a second, and Chloe stared at her with eyes wide as dinner plates. "Are you serious?"

She only smirked, brushing past her on her way to the door.

"Holy shit, you're serious."

From the hallway, Rachel leaned back into the room. "You coming or what?"

Resisting the urge to crack the stupid joke that immediately popped into her head, Chloe nodded vigorously and started after her. "Hell yeah."

* * *

Meanwhile in a different bedroom, a different pair of teenage girls were waking up on a couch, leaning against each other. Kate had nestled her head into Max's shoulder, and Max had rested her own head on top of hers. Blinking awake, she saw the sharp early morning sunlight had already intruded upon them. She sat idle for a minute, until she felt Kate begin to stir, and the two of them gradually drew apart.

"Hey," she said blearily, sending an innocent smile the other girl's way.

"Hey," replied Kate, returning the smile. "Are you feeling better?"

She nodded. "Yeah. Thanks for staying with me all night. I thought I wanted to be alone after everything I went through yesterday, but you showed up just when I needed you."

"I was just returning the favor," she insisted, leaning back and wrapping her hands around one knee. "You and Rachel showed me there are people who still care about me. It gave me the strength to keep going even when things got… overwhelming."

Max's hand went instinctively to her upper back. "What happened to you was messed up, Kate. I'm glad you found the strength to carry on."

"It's getting easier now that Victoria took the video down," she said. "We even talked for a while yesterday. I feel like I understand her better now. She's under so much pressure to live up to her parents, and she feels like she has to hurt other people before they get the chance to hurt her. But I'm glad she realized she'd gone too far. It means there's hope for her."

"I don't know if I'd be able to forgive someone who did that to me."

She nodded solemnly, staring at the floor. "Forgiving her was actually the easy part. My entire faith is centered around forgiveness, and I've always preferred to look for the best in people. Even when things got dark, I never stopped believing that the world is full of good people. Everyday heroes. I just didn't think I belonged in that world after what happened to me."

"I definitely wouldn't want to live in a world without Kate Marsh," she insisted, and the corners of her mouth tugged upward. "Seriously. Thanks for being there for me."

"You're welcome, Max. Did you want to hang out some more today? Victoria mentioned getting lunch together at a little café in town."

"You know what? That actually sounds great. There's something I need to tell both of you, but I never got a chance yesterday."

"Then I'll see you later today." She stood. "If you'll excuse me, I have to go put some actual clothes on."

"And I still have to change out of mine," said Max, briefly grasping her hoodie and stretching it out, giving it a brief sniff. "I'll see you later."

With a parting smile, Kate opened the door and disappeared into the hallway.

* * *

Max entered the showers a few minutes later, finding them mercifully empty. Without a word, she made her way into the middle stall, drew the curtains and stripped, letting the warm water cascade down her body.

As she scrubbed herself clean, Rachel's words from yesterday continued to nag at her, but had found new context. She had never thought of herself as exceptionally pessimistic, but everything she'd experienced since discovering her powers had caused her to develop a bit of a nihilistic streak. No matter what she did with them, eventually something went wrong.

But as Chloe reminded her, she needed to remember the good things her powers had done as well. And when she couldn't do that herself, Kate had shown up just when she least expected it. There may not be any larger plan, and it may be impossible to save everybody, but Kate Marsh was living proof that it was absolutely worth it to help others when she had the power to do so. Even if she didn't have superpowers.

Her powers weren't even what saved Kate; thanks to her photo rewind, she had sleepwalked through that entire week in this timeline, and still managed to rescue her by having basic human empathy. By giving a damn.

She had just finished washing her hair when the door opened, and she heard footsteps clacking against the tile as someone walked to the far wall. A quick peek through the curtain showed her it was Brooke, clutching her cell phone tight against her ear. Max did her best not to listen, but with the acoustics in this bathroom it was unavoidable. Or maybe she really was that nosy.

"Yeah." Brooke nodded, listening to the person on the other end of the line. "I took care of it already. She won't see it coming."

From this distance she heard only an indistinct murmur from the phone. Brooke performed a cursory scan around the bathroom, and Max ducked quickly back behind the curtain. "Okay, I'll talk to you later. When can you meet up? Uh-huh. Alright. See ya."

She hung up the phone, and Max held her breath, waiting for her to leave. But she didn't hear any footsteps.

"Is that you in there, Max?"

' _Fuck!_ ' Using her powers to escape was no use, since the shower had been running long before Brooke entered, and she hadn't heard anything too weird anyway. For all she knew it could have just been Warren on the other line.

"Uh… yeah."

"Just checking. Are you okay? You ran out of Mr. Jefferson's class in a real hurry yesterday."

' _Don't remind me._ ' At least people cared about her. "I'm fine. It was just a bloody nose."

"If you say so."

Sighing, Max shut off the water and got dressed. Brooke was still standing there with her arms crossed when she exited. "Was there something else you wanted to ask me, Brooke?"

"What kind of bloody nose leads you to ditch school and get back at eleven o'clock? We all heard you last night."

"So much for being a Blackwell ninja," she muttered, chuckling. "I've been under a lot of stress lately. But I'm doing better. Kate checked in on me last night and helped me process some stuff."

"Yeah, people saw her leaving your room earlier."

Max raised an eyebrow. "Are there _any_ secrets at this school?"

"No such luck. Speaking of which, word is Victoria had a meltdown at her improv group on Saturday, then yesterday she took down that viral video of Kate."

She nodded. "I was there. Both times. Kate says they got to talking, and I'm having lunch with both of them later today."

"You're really gonna get lunch with the biggest bully in school?" She stared at her skeptically. "I never would have expected that from you."

"I think Victoria's trying to make a change," said Max, shrugging. "And Kate's forgiven her. Why shouldn't I?"

Brooke frowned. "Leopards don't change their spots, Max. Once a bitch, always a bitch. Victoria's good at manipulating people, but underneath all that she's just plastic. It's funny. Warren actually said you were smart."

"Oh god, not this again." She turned her eyes to the ceiling, groaning in exasperation. Brooke stared at her, confused.

"Huh?"

"Brooke, I have absolutely no romantic interest in Warren," she said very plainly. "We're just friends. You want him? He's all yours."

"But… I didn't say anything about…"

"You didn't have to. I don't know why you feel like you need to have beef with me just because Warren likes me, but I love someone else. You don't need to worry about us getting together. Now can you cut the bullshit? Please?"

She processed that, gradually reassembling her features. "I… I guess so. I'm sorry, Max. I didn't mean to get so jealous. It's just he's always looking at you the way I wish he'd look at me."

"I can't do anything about that," she replied. "But you should tell him how you feel. The worst he can do is say no."

"Do you have any idea how humiliating that would be?"

Max rolled her eyes. "it's just high school, Brooke. None of this matters as much as you think it does."

"I wish I could be as mature as you, Max. You always seem like you know exactly what you're doing."

"Then I've gotten good at hiding how lost I feel all the time," she replied. "Can't we just be friends? Without all the drama?"

Brooke smiled, and they began walking towards the door. "Okay. You actually are pretty cool."

"Thanks. You are too. That drone is awesome."

"Oh, I know. You wanna fly her sometime?"

She smirked. "Hell yes."

* * *

Rose Amber was facing the stove when Chloe and Rachel finally found their way downstairs, preparing what looked to be some sort of fancy omelet. Rachel's father was nowhere in sight, and had most likely already gone to work. They were almost out the door when Rose turned around.

"And where do you two think you're going without breakfast?"

"Um, school?" Rachel whirled around, nervously tucking a bit of hair behind her ear. "I have two classes today."

"I'm well aware of your schedule," she said, bringing a pair of plates over to the table. "Which is why I know it doesn't start for another two hours. These are just make-up courses. You don't have to handle a full semester load."

Chloe rubbed the back of her head sheepishly. "Sorry for trying to duck out early, Mrs. A. We just wanted to hang out before school."

"Which you can do on a full stomach," she insisted. "Come on; it'll all end up in the trash otherwise."

Exchanging a glance, the two of them slumped their shoulders and marched obediently to the dining room, sitting down at the table. Rose joined them after retrieving a plate of her own.

"So tell me ladies: what have the two of you been up to lately? It feels like I hardly ever see you."

"Just school, mostly," Rachel answered, poking awkwardly at her omelet. "Getting ready for college."

"Oh, that reminds me: we still need to send out those applications for next year. Have you narrowed down what you want to major in at least?"

"Theatre, with a minor in fashion modeling," she answered, clearly prepared for such a question despite everything else going on in her life. She'd always been adept at living up to her parents' expectations. "Those programs have a higher acceptance rate, and they'd be willing to overlook the fact that I missed the last semester of senior year."

Rose waved a hand. "Any school admissions office worth its salt will realize that wasn't your fault anyway. You've always been able to accomplish anything you set your mind to, and your father and I believe in you. We're always here for support if you need us."

"Thanks mom."

Even though Rose wasn't the woman who gave birth to her, that didn't make nineteen years of old habits go away. Rachel took a bite of her meal, while Chloe had already cleared half her plate.

"I've been thinking about getting my GED," she revealed after taking a large gulp of orange juice. "Maybe going to one of those vocational schools. I think I'd be pretty good at auto repair."

Rose nodded, turning her attention to her. "I'm sure you would. Rachel tells me you managed to restore that truck of yours after finding it in a junkyard. If you need a letter of recommendation, I'm sure James could put something together."

"Thanks Mrs. A, but I want to get in on my own. I'm either good enough or I'm not."

"An interesting way of looking at it. Would you be staying here in Arcadia Bay?"

Chloe shrugged. "That depends. You know any good auto shops around here? 'Cause I haven't come across even one."

That scored a reaction from Rachel, who snorted a bit.

"Well, I'm sure there are plenty of vocational schools wherever Rachel ends up going. Plenty of opportunities to shower together there too."

Both of them dropped their forks, staring at her in horror as their faces turned beet red.

"Mom!"

"What? Sound travels in this house. I went upstairs to wake you both, and neither of you were in the bedroom. So when I heard laughter from the bathroom…"

Chloe stared at her bug-eyed, fighting to keep her breakfast down. "Please tell me you didn't open the door."

She smirked. "Don't be so embarrassed. You're both nineteen, and I couldn't stop you from fooling around even if I tried. At least this way I don't have to worry about becoming a grandmother before I'm fifty."

"We weren't… fooling around," insisted Rachel. "We haven't gone that far."

"I'm sensing an unspoken 'yet' at the end of that sentence," she replied, still smiling while the two of them sat there feeling like their heads were about to explode. "Like I said, it's not a big deal. I've sensed the relationship between you two was changing for a while now."

"Can we please not talk about this anymore?"

She raised her hands and shrugged. "Just be careful, you two. You don't have to tell your father about this if you don't want to. But like I said, Rachel: we support you, and we're here for you. Both of you."

"Sure, mom. Whatever you say."

"Finish your breakfast, girls. And have fun today."

They devoured the rest of the meal in mortified silence, but for some reason, Chloe couldn't help smiling.

* * *

"I have never been more jealous of time travel powers in my life," said Rachel once they were finally outside.

A wry smirk formed on Chloe's face, and she elbowed the other girl's shoulder. "What are you talking about? You've got the coolest mom in the world. I doubt mine would've been that laid back about it."

"As always, I can do no wrong," she said, glowering at her car before unlocking it. They clambered inside, and she turned the keys in the ignition, bringing it to life. "Just once I wish they'd treat me like a real person and not the perfect made-for-tv daughter they think I am. Did you hear her in there? 'We're always here for you if you need us.' Like hell."

"Wait, hold up." Chloe tapped her hands together in a 'time out' motion Rachel finished backing out of the driveway. "You'd rather she _not_ be cool with it?"

"I'd rather she not think of it as a way to make herself look more progressive. In an hour she'll be on Facebook going, 'My daughter is gay! Look how supportive I am!' It's all for show."

"You really think she'd out you like that?"

She scowled, narrowing her eyes at the road in front of her as they travelled towards where Chloe had parked her truck. "Maybe not. But my mom's only a liberal because it gives her a way to have people pat her on the back for doing good, not because she actually gives a shit about any of the causes she supports."

"I dunno. You might not be able to see it, but she _does_ love you."

"As long as I live up to her expectations. Same with my dad."

Chloe rolled her eyes. "Oh, give me a fucking break, Rachel. Try having a dead man for a father, a fascist douchebag for a stepdad, and a mom who cares more about forgetting the past than honoring it. I get it; living up to expectations can be tough. But at least your parents actually give a shit."

"No they don't!" The car began to accelerate a little faster. "I've had to lie to them my whole life just so they think I'm someone they can actually be proud of! They have no idea who I am or what I want!"

"Then fucking tell them already. I've got your back."

"Thanks." Her temper abated, and by this time they had come across the truck. "I'll see you later, Chloe."

"Are you mad?"

"I am," she admitted. "But not at you. I think I'll just go to school early and hang out. Do you want to meet me there? We need to talk with Max anyway."

"Sure thing. I'll see you there."

Leaning over, Rachel planted a kiss on her. "See you, hot stuff."

* * *

After picking up a few things from her room, Max returned to the hallway at the exact same time as Victoria. They stood there awkwardly for a moment, before the other girl smiled.

"Hello there, Max. Looking fashionable this morning."

"Is that a serious compliment, or are we back to the old ways already?"

She chuckled. "I'm just giving you a hard time. That actually is a pretty good ensemble. You know how to work with what you have."

"And you look ready to walk a runway."

"Well, it's important to maintain appearances." She placed a hand on one hip and fixed her with a concerned look. "Speaking of which, are you doing okay? You ran out of Jefferson's class like you'd rather be anywhere else."

"I wish people would stop asking me that. I just got a bloody nose. It's nothing to worry about."

Victoria shrugged. "I won't pry. It's not like I'm one to talk about dramatic exits."

"Are _you_ doing okay? You looked pretty upset after Jefferson threw shade at you. I didn't mean for that to happen."

"It's fine," she insisted, waving a hand in front of her. "I deserved it. Kinda fucked up that it took getting publicly humiliated myself to make me realize I'd done a really shitty thing to someone who didn't deserve it. Did Kate invite you to lunch?"

Max nodded. "Yeah."

"Well, I don't see any reason to hang around here all morning. None of us have class until the afternoon. Let's go get Kate and I'll show you two how to spend a proper day in this town."

"Sounds like fun."

Victoria grinned. "You have no idea."

* * *

Chloe sped down the highway, listening to whatever passed for music on the radio these days. The sky was completely clear, and the sun was shining high, having risen several hours ago. The ghost of a smile lingered on her face, despite having already lost sight of Rachel. She had to stop at home and change before showing her face at Blackwell, even though she wasn't looking to impress anyone but Max.

This whole idea was absolute lunacy; something only Rachel could have come up with. She had to admit, though: given the choice between her childhood best friend and the girl who came along and set her whole world on fire, Chloe wouldn't have been able to pick one over the other. This way she didn't have to.

She was so lost in thought that she didn't register the red and blue lights behind her until the siren finally reached her ears.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck…" Smashing her hands against the steering wheel, Chloe pulled over to the side of the highway, quietly seething as the pursuing vehicle slowed behind her, and eventually they both came to a stop. "Not now, you fucking dingleberries…"

The first thing she noticed about the vehicle behind her was that it wasn't a regular police cruiser. It wasn't even a Crown Victoria, but rather some sort of Lexus painted jet black, with red and blue lights built into the top of the windshield and each of the mirrors. Both doors swung open, and from them emerged a man and a woman wearing generic black and white suits straight out of a bargain bin conspiracy thriller.

The woman was dark-skinned, with naturally curly hair tied up in a raised ponytail. The man next to her was even darker, and wore a pair of mirrored shades that matched the shape of his bald head. Like if Morpheus and Agent Smith had a baby.

They walked to either side of the car, with the woman appearing on the driver's side. She rapped her knuckles against the window, and Chloe sighed, rolling both of them down.

"Is there a problem with my driving?"

The woman shook her head, retrieving a small black wallet and flashing it open, revealing a badge. The man on the other side did the same.

"Special Agent Maria Acevedo, FBI. This here's Special Agent Jerome Bryant. And no, this isn't about the fact that you were speeding, or your numerous unpaid parking tickets. Though that did give us enough of a pretense."

"Then why pull me over?"

"We have reason to believe you've been in contact with a man named Joseph Black Elk," said Agent Bryant, resting his arms against the windowsill on the passenger's side. "I'm afraid we have to ask you to come with us."

She glanced between them, narrowing her eyes. "And what if I don't?"

"Then we'll bring in your friends Maxine Caulfield and Rachel Amber instead," Agent Acevedo replied. "You were the easiest to take into custody due to your existing criminal record, but make no mistake: we will find a reason to drag them in for questioning as well, unless you cooperate."

Now Chloe was the one who wished she had time travel powers.

"Fine. But I know my rights. I'm not telling you shit unless I get a lawyer."

"You're not under arrest, Miss Price. Once you answer our questions, you'll be free to go."

"Yeah, I'm just being strong-armed. Let's just get this over with."

Agent Acevedo nodded. "Please remove the keys from the ignition and exit the vehicle. Agent Bryant will drive it to the destination."

Chloe obeyed, hurling the keys at her from close range. To her credit, the FBI agent snatched them out of the air with no effort, then tossed them through both windows, where the other one caught them.

"You're not getting a tip," she remarked as she was led to the car. "And I'm still not telling you shit."

"That's what you think," said Agent Acevedo, stuffing her into the backseat. The car started a few moments later, and then they were on the move. Chloe glared at the back of her head.

' _Fuck_.'

* * *

Rachel steered her car neatly into the parking spot, with equal clearance on either line. Gathering her things, she exited the vehicle and made her way along the central courtyard, towards the main school building. There was no sense texting Max this early, and she wanted to wait for Chloe to arrive anyway. In the meantime, she had roughly an hour to kill before she was due in class.

Halfway to the main building, she brushed past Stella, who fixed her with a quick smile and a wave, which she returned. She saw Hayden kicking back under a tree, most likely high already. Justin and Trevor were doing their typical skating tricks, but this time Dana was standing nearby and cheering them on. She smiled, as this confirmed that Dana had finally moved on from Logan.

Brooke was in the middle of the courtyard flying her drone, as usual. Ms. Grant stood by the main double doors, and Samuel was busy raking leaves. Zack and Logan were throwing a football back and forth, which went wide and travelled towards her at alarming speed. Her hands flew up and she caught it effortlessly, then threw it back. It sailed through the air, landing in Zack's hands. He gave her a fist pump and a yell, which she returned with her most coquettish smile.

Returning her gaze to the path in front of her, she skidded to a halt just shy of bumping into the last person she wanted to see.

"Ah," said Mr. Jefferson, still clutching his morning coffee. "What a wonderful surprise. Rachel Amber once again graces us with her presence. It's nice to see you."

' _Okay, here's the part where all those acting classes pay off_.' She didn't let the panic make its way to her face, smiling as naturally as she could. "It's… nice to see you too."

"Something tells me you're a bit distracted this morning."

She nodded. "Oh. Yeah. I just had a long day yesterday. Got a lot on my mind."

"Well, I'm sure it's important, whatever it is. You know I'm always here, if you want to talk about it."

' _Please god no._ ' She ran her hand down the back of her hair. "It's fine, Mr. Jefferson. I've got it under control"

"I've always admired your ability to juggle so many things at once," he said. "But you shouldn't be afraid of sharing that burden with others. If not me, then with someone you feel like you can rely on. You're destined for great things, Rachel. Just don't burn up on your way there."

"I'll take that under advisement," she said, unsure of how much longer she could hide the fact that her skin was crawling. How the fuck could he act this calmly when just knowing what he almost did to her made her want to curl up into a ball and never stop crying? And how could she not have seen it earlier?

More than ever, Rachel wished she could be the one to go back in time.

"By the way, you're close with Max Caulfield, right?"

"Uh…" There was no use denying it. "Yeah. Yeah I am. She's a good friend."

"If you see her, can you ask if she's doing okay? I'm concerned about her after she suddenly left my class yesterday, then disappeared from campus. Has she been acting unusual lately?"

Rachel narrowed her eyes, staring up at him and his disgustingly pretentious glasses. "Maybe. But her secrets aren't mine to tell."

"I understand. I only ask because she's one of my brightest students, and I can't help but worry about all of you. You are the future, after all."

It was getting harder and harder to maintain her composure. Something about the way he was looking at her made her feel unsafe, and she did her best not to look like an animal waiting for an opportunity to flee. She glanced over to Ms. Grant, wondering how subtly she could attract her attention to save herself from having to spend one more second standing here.

"Well, I won't take up any more of your time," said Jefferson. "I'm sure you have better things to do than listen to an old man try and be hip with the kids. I hope I'll see you later."

' _I hope you burn in hell_.'

She didn't say anything in parting, just nodded and waved. As soon as he was an appropriate distance away, she ran to the main doors, and made a beeline for the bathroom. The door exploded open, and after quickly confirming that no one was there to see it, she dove towards the nearest toilet and threw up her breakfast.

* * *

After rinsing out her mouth, washing her face, and taking several deep breaths, Rachel emerged from the bathroom looking no worse for wear. She moved through the main foyer area and into the hall, with only a few minutes before she had to get to class. Max and Chloe would have to wait.

She avoided the glances of Evan, Alyssa, Brooke, Warren, and everybody else in the hall, marching forward with a single-minded determination. The general din of the hall became muted as she shut it out, like she was buried underground.

Rachel had thought she was ready to face Jefferson, even after knowing what he'd done to all those girls, and almost done to her. Hell, she'd stood two feet away from Nathan without a problem. Why was Jefferson different?

' _You know why_.'

Grimacing, she silenced her inner voice and kept walking. She heard sounds but not words next to her ear, and only once he stepped in front of her did she realize David Madsen had been trying to get her attention.

"I said, are you listening to me, young lady?"

She blinked. "I'm sorry, what?"

"Get out of your head for a minute and pay attention. I need you to bring me to your locker."

"What? Why?"

Planting his hands on his hips, David towered over her and glared. "The security hotline received an anonymous tip that you were hiding something in there that's against school policy. Now you can either open it for me, or I can do it."

"I don't know what you expect to find," she said. "I barely even use that thing."

"Just show me where it is."

She threw her arms out to the side. "Fine." She led him over to it. "It's right here."

"Open it."

Maybe it was the way he said it. Maybe it was her issues with her parents. Maybe it was the fact that she just had to spend twenty minutes in the bathroom after only a brief encounter with Mr. Jefferson. Or maybe she just didn't feel like putting up with the world's bullshit anymore.

For whatever reason, Rachel crossed her arms and glared defiantly up at him. "No."

David reared back as if struck. "No?"

"No. I don't have to comply with unlawful search and seizure. Fourth amendment."

Pinching the bridge of his nose, David sighed long and loud. "First off, this is a private institution, not a government one. Students don't have any expectation of privacy when it comes to lockers they don't even own. Second, I don't need your help to open it."

He pulled out his phone, and began to scroll through it. "I'm not nearly as old-fashioned as you kids think. The combinations to all these lockers are stored on a secure database, which I have access to. There's even an app for it."

"Well, congratulations on making it to the twenty-first century."

"Aha," he said a few seconds later, staring at the phone screen. "There it is."

"David, what the hell?" Rachel snapped as he rotated the dial on the lock. "There's nothing in my locker. This is a serious invasion of privacy. I ought to call my dad and—"

The lock clicked open, and he pulled open the locker, fishing around inside.

By this time a small crowd had gathered, watching the head of security rummage through the locker of the most popular girl in school. Hushed murmurs scurried through the group like mice, just barely loud enough for her to catch the gist of it. As if she didn't already know what they were saying. A few of them had pulled out phones and begun documenting the event.

A small chuckle escaped him, and he pulled out a large ziploc bag containing roughly two pounds of a green, plant-like substance. He held it to his nose and sniffed.

"That's marijuana alright."

Rachel's expression had turned from anger to genuine fear. "That's not mine."

"Then maybe you'd like to explain to Principal Wells how it got there," he said, grabbing her roughly by the arm. "Let's go, missy."

"Hey, let go of me!" she protested as David dragged her down the hall. "What the fuck are you all looking at?"

They disappeared down the hall, turning the corner to the principal's office. Staring after them, Brooke elbowed Warren in the stomach. "Holy shit. We need to tell Max. Now."

"Why?"

"Just trust me on this," she replied, and they headed towards the dorms.


	13. Who Framed Rachel Amber?

**Chapter Thirteen**  
Who Framed Rachel Amber?

Principal Ray Wells sat at his desk with his fingers interlocked, elbows propped up against the desk. A bronze raven statue stood vigilant, peering out from behind the dual monitors of his computer. David Madsen stood near the desk with his back to one of the many bookshelves, while Rachel Amber sat with her arms crossed, glaring at him like she wished to set him on fire. None of them said a word.

Finally the door opened, and in stepped a man with black hair, wearing an expensive suit and tie that seemed more fit for a mayor than a District Attorney. He walked over to the desk, standing directly behind Rachel.

"Ray."

"James." Wells sighed heavily. "Let's begin."

He stood, pacing with his arms behind his back, the pale midday sun shining starkly into the room and silhouetting him against the window.

"Based on an anonymous tip, a search of your daughter's locker was conducted, uncovering roughly two pounds of pure marijuana. Well beyond what even the most… enthusiastic recreational users of the drug would have in their possession at one time, wouldn't you say?"

District Attorney James Amber narrowed his eyes. "What are you saying, Ray?"

"There's no easy way to put this, Mr. Amber," he said, adopting an extra formal tone as he stopped pacing and turned to face them properly. "This isn't the first time your daughter has been accused of bringing drugs on campus, as you well know. On previous occasions I was able to dismiss it as petty rumors, not befitting of someone with your daughter's history of academic excellence. But this… well, I imagine you know more about evidence than I do."

"It's not mine," Rachel insisted, glancing frantically between them. "Somebody planted it there."

"And I'm sure the investigation will bring out the truth of this matter," he said. "However, Blackwell has a zero tolerance policy for drug use. Even for someone with your reputation."

"What does that mean?"

"That you are suspended, Miss Amber, until our investigation is complete. And once it is, we will discuss your future."

Her eyes went wide and her mouth hung open, her next breath dying in her throat as she sat there in total shock. James moved forward a bit.

"Now Ray, that punishment seems a little harsh. Especially since you don't have any definitive proof it was hers."

"It was in her locker, and there have been prior accusations," said Principal Wells. "You are correct that it's not an open and shut case, but it definitely warrants investigation."

"Which you ought to be able to conduct without rendering my daughter a social pariah. If you suspend her, the rest of the school will assume she's guilty already."

"I understand your concern, Mr. Amber, but rest assured that I am merely following standard protocol for this situation."

"This is such fucking bullshit!" Rachel surged forward, slamming her hands on the desk. David started towards her instinctively, but the Principal waved him off.

"Now, now, there's no need for shouting. I ask that you remain calm…"

" _Calm_? Do you know how many of your students use drugs right under your nose? Almost half of them! And _I'm_ the one in trouble?"

He narrowed his eyes in response. "I wonder how exactly it is you know that, Miss Amber."

She stood up and crossed her arms, glaring up at him with something dark behind her eyes that none of them had seen before. "So that's what you're accusing me of? Being a drug dealer?"

"I don't want to jump to any conclusions, but…"

"Who are my clients? Huh?" She planted one hand on her hip and leaned forward, gesticulating with the other. "Who's my supplier? I sure as hell didn't grow all that shit myself."

He sighed, sitting down slowly, then gestured with one hand. "Mr. Madsen, if you would?"

David moved towards him, producing a small manila folder that he set down on the desk, opening it for all to see. Rachel gasped and threw her hands over her mouth, while James' eyes grew wide.

"Mr. Madsen here has observed you spending time with one Frank Bowers, a person I'm told your father's office has investigated on several occasions." He looked up at her gravely. "He has known ties to the drug trade, and has allegedly attempted to use Blackwell students as mules."

"Frank has nothing to do with this."

James stared hard at the photographs. "Rachel, what's going on in these pictures? Why were you spending time with that man?"

She turned away. "None of your business."

He reeled back as if struck. "What did you say to me?"

"I said it's none of your business! It has nothing to do with this!"

Wells stared at her pitilessly. "I see your friendship with Chloe Price has led you down similar roads to the ones she traveled. I do hope your time here at Blackwell doesn't end the same way hers did."

Rachel leaned forward and glared at him with unholy fury, but he didn't budge. James pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed.

"Since the investigation is still ongoing, may I assume that my daughter isn't actually being charged with anything at this time?"

"That is correct. Her suspension is necessary to conduct said investigation, and she is barred from entering the Blackwell campus during that time."

"Because you don't want me hiding evidence, right?" she said, chuckling darkly. "Or is it because no one gives a shit if someone like Chloe Price crashes and burns, but if the DA's daughter goes down for dealing drugs, your whole fucking school goes with me?"

"As I just told your father, Blackwell Academy is not officially pressing charges at this time, but we must follow standard protocol so that-"

"Oh my god, even when you're punishing me you can't stop kissing my ass!" She backed away from the desk and threw her arms out to her sides. "I was here three years ago when you expelled Chloe. You'd have her arrested for this without a second thought. What makes me so special?"

He arched an eyebrow. "Are you saying you _wouldn't_ like to be presumed innocent until proven guilty?"

"Ray, she's not thinking clearly, she doesn't mean any of—"

"Don't tell me what I mean!" she screeched, and they all stood paralyzed as Rachel continued to erupt. "I am _done_ being the perfect little fairy tale princess you all want me to be. It's just another way for you to control me. If _any_ of you knew the real me you'd know that weed isn't mine. I'm being set up."

There was a long, tense silence as each of them processed that. Finally, Principal Wells spoke.

"I understand how frustrating this must be for you, Miss Amber. You are correct that I've treated you with a greater degree of leniency than some of our more… problematic students, but the meeting you bore witness to three years ago wasn't Chloe's first strike. Or even her third. That was a long time coming."

She chuckled darkly. "Forget it. Can I go now?"

He nodded slowly. "Mr. Madsen will escort you and your father off the academy grounds. We will conduct our investigation and contact you with a meeting time when it is complete. Until then you may not enter the Blackwell campus. Is that understood?"

She glared at him, her eyes like burning coals, but eventually nodded. "Understood."

"Very well then. For the record, I do hope this has a happy ending. We've enjoyed having you as a student, and can't wait to put this terrible ordeal behind us."

"Yeah, I'll bet." She turned around, flanked by David and her father, and walked out of the office.

James Amber spared one final glance in the Principal's direction, eyeing him sternly. "Ray," he said, then left.

* * *

The "small café" Victoria had promised was a far cry from the Two Whales Diner, but it had a view of the water, and the outdoor seating was mostly empty and free of seagull crap, so Max had no complaints. A short wrought-iron fence surrounded the tables, separating them from the main road, where the occasional car whizzed by. The hostess finished seating them and retreated back inside, leaving the three of them with only each other for company.

"It's not exactly a street café in Paris, but you wouldn't know it from the prices," said Victoria as they looked over the menus, which were printed on fancy cardstock and sported the most exotic collection of coffee and teas one was likely to find this side of Portland. "Pick anything you want; I'm buying."

"Uh, thanks," said Max, still not entirely adjusted to dealing with this side of Victoria, the one that made everyone in the Vortex Club willing to defend her honor until death. "I can't even pronounce half of these."

"Don't bother with those ones. The fancier the name, the more they're trying to trick you into thinking it's better than it really is," she advised. "Their chamomile is to die for, though."

"Then I'll have that."

"I'm getting the Earl Grey to start with," said Kate, setting the menu back down on the table.

"An excellent choice. I'll get the same as Max." The server arrived and they placed their orders, and then they were alone again. "Thank you both for letting me do this. I've been a total bitch to both of you, and I did something I could never make up for, but I hope you don't hate me."

"I don't hate you, Victoria," said Max. "I actually admire your work a lot. And even though you can be mean sometimes, you have a lot of people who consider you a good friend. You know you made a mistake, and you're owning it. I can't really fault you for that."

"And besides," added Kate. "Forgiveness isn't about making up for anything, or evening a score. It's about wiping the slate clean and starting over."

Nodding solemnly, Victoria stared down at the table. "Thank you. Both of you. I don't know why I treated both of you the way I did. I'd like to blame my parents, or the pressure I'm under, or maybe I just wasn't willing to give you a chance. For whatever it's worth, I'm sorry."

Max smiled. "I forgive you."

"Same here," said Kate. "I thought I had you pegged too, but it turns out I was wrong."

"Well let's not dwell on this all day," she said. "Max, how are things going with Rachel and... what's-her-name, Cleo? Carrie?"

"Chloe."

"Right. Chloe. God, you'd think I'd remember her name after she saw my whole meltdown. Did you know she sabotaged my homework once?"

"Was it because you called her Carrie?"

Victoria propped her elbow up on the table, holding her hand horizontally in front of her face and shaking it back and forth. "Probably not. I was grilling her on Rachel. They met at a Firewalk show the night before, and Rachel posted it on Facebook. Since we'd potentially be running in the same social circles after that, I wanted to get to know her better. Then she tricked me into spelling out FUCK U as the answer to a chemistry question."

Max failed to stifle a chortle. She was about to rewind when the other girl cracked a smile.

"It's okay, you can laugh. It was three years ago; I'm over it. Plus she got expelled the next day."

"For messing with your homework?"

"No, for ditching with Rachel. From what I hear, it was actually little miss perfect's idea, but of course the juvenile delinquent got stuck with the blame."

Max raised an eyebrow. "Where'd you hear that from?"

"I have my sources. I honestly feel sad for Chloe. Losing her father like that… it's no wonder she threw her whole future away."

"She's been through so much," she said. "It probably doesn't help that my dad got a new job in Seattle and I moved away for five years. I could have called, or emailed, or texted… but after a while I started thinking maybe she was better off without me. It got to the point where I hadn't talked to her in so long that I was afraid to even try because I knew we'd have to get through a mountain of bullshit just to get back to where we were."

"And now that you're back?"

"We worked through it, somehow," she replied. "We're moving forward. She's my best friend in the whole world."

Kate smiled. "That's so sweet. I'm glad you have someone like that."

Victoria's grin was a little less innocent. "I am too. But what about Rachel? Is she important to you too?"

She closed one eye almost completely as she squinted, raising an eyebrow with the other. Finally, she nodded. "I guess so. I honestly didn't expect her to be so awesome. I don't normally get along with popular kids."

"You wound me." Victoria drew a hand close to her heart.

Chuckling, Max shook her head. "That's not what I mean. Everyone describes her as this perfect angel, and I didn't think she'd give someone like me the time of day. But she cares about everybody."

"You can say that again," replied Kate. "Both of you were there for me when I felt like I was all alone. Rachel's amazing."

"Oh, totally." Victoria said it just a little too quickly, her voice taking on too high a pitch. "I've been super tight with her for like, years. She's always a blast to have at Vortex Club gatherings. One time we both got so wasted, we…"

There was a brief pause, and then her hands went to her mouth as she looked to Kate. "Shit. I'm so sorry."

Shaking her head, Kate smiled reassuringly. "Don't worry. It's not a trigger for me. Dealing with this hasn't been easy, but I can handle hearing you talk about Vortex Club parties."

She exhaled. "That's a relief. You ever wish you could go back a few seconds to stop yourself from saying something totally stupid?"

"All the time. It'd be nice if I could go back and stop myself from ever going to that party."

"Me too. I'd never have posted that video if I knew then what I know now." She looked up, at Max. "What about you? Is there anything you'd change, if you had the chance?"

She smirked, resting her chin in her palm as she sat leaning forward with her elbow propped against the table. "I'll let you know when I finish the list."

By this time their tea was ready, and their server brought it out to them in the fanciest teacups and saucers Max had ever seen. The chamomile crashed against her tastebuds and travelled down her throat, filling her with warmth. But it failed to distract her from the guilt. She'd been so focused on saving Rachel that she'd forgotten Jefferson's other victims, as an imaginary version of Victoria had pointed out.

Would it be worth it, to take one more trip back in time? Or would that only hurt her case against Jefferson? Every time she spared one of the people he hurt, was she making it that much harder to catch him? With Rachel alive, the only crimes they could really pin on him were kidnapping and being a total creep. Not exactly something for which he'd spend his life in prison. And once he was out…

She sighed, leaning forward. "Kate? Victoria? There's something I need to tell you. Something about what happened at that party."

They both looked at her intently, staring with a growing curiosity.

"What is it?" asked Kate.

"Well…"

"Hold that thought," said Victoria as she scrolled through her texts. "I hope you don't mind, but I invited someone else to lunch."

She blinked, rearing back in her chair. "Who?"

As if summoned by her question, Nathan Prescott walked out from behind her, curving around the table and sitting next to Victoria. Her thoughts froze in place, and her heart dropped into her stomach. She just barely managed to convince her mouth not to hang wide open.

Victoria returned her attention to her. "You were saying, Max?"

She only stared back like a deer in the face of the brightest headlights she'd ever encountered.

' _Shit_.'

* * *

The Arcadia Bay Police Department did not have an exceptionally large headquarters, yet it still seemed empty most of the time. Only a handful of officers were on the force, and they mostly stayed out on patrol all day. That was one small mercy, Chloe considered as she was led through the bullpen by two very serious FBI agents, towards the interrogation room.

She'd attempted to ask them why they didn't have their own fancy black site where they could make her disappear, but had been met with a quick chuckle and an even quicker explanation of jurisdiction that essentially told her they were crashing here like in-laws visiting for the holidays.

Chloe had never actually been inside the station, her offenses amounting mostly to misdemeanors and unpaid parking tickets. Oddly enough, she'd never been brought in on drug charges, not that such a thing was surprising when Frank was still on the streets. She sent a mean smirk towards Officer Berry, who glanced briefly up from his paperwork as the three of them passed. Finally, she was led into a small, brightly lit room, separated from the rest of the station by a plate glass window obscured by venetian blinds. The door closed behind them.

"Have a seat, Miss Price."

"You got it, Agent Scully," she replied, planting her ass in the chair and swinging her legs up onto the table, where she rested her boots.

"Special Agent Acevedo will do just fine. And put your feet down."

Chloe gave a brief shrug and did as she was told. The other woman took a seat across from her, while the man stood by the door.

"Okay, suits. Let's get one thing clear: I'm not saying shit unless I get a lawyer. And I want my phone call."

Special Agent Maria Acevedo rolled her eyes. "As I previously explained, you're not under arrest. If you want to call someone, you still have your phone. But you might want to ask yourself if you really want to get them involved."

A sneer crept up her face as she produced her phone, flipping it once between her thumb and forefinger before unlocking it. Her thumb froze as she hovered over the app, and she looked up at the FBI agent with a raised eyebrow. "This isn't a trick, right?"

"Not at all. You have rights, and you're free to exercise them. We only want you to answer a few questions."

Hesitating, Chloe stared at the phone as she considered her next move. She didn't really know anything about Joseph Black Elk that the agents in front of her weren't aware of already, which Sam had guaranteed by blindfolding them. That meant that she stood to gain more knowledge from this encounter than they did, which could prove useful. The phone dropped from her fingers, and Chloe's eyes narrowed.

"Okay, let's say I cooperate. What do I get?"

"Absolution from all your parking tickets, for one thing," said Acevedo. "And if you agree to operate as a confidential informant, the government would be willing to pay you for any information you can provide."

"Wait, you want me to snitch? Fuck that."

She shrugged. "You're the one who asked what we can offer you in return."

"Yeah, for answering a few questions, not wearing a damn wire."

The other woman shook her head. "No wire involved. You don't even have to tell us his location. You've already got an in through Mr. Black Elk's granddaughter, Samantha. All we'd be asking you to do is observe and report; see what you can glean about his operation. Nothing more than that."

"Yeah, I'm gonna have to pass."

"Let's talk about the man you're protecting," said Special Agent Bryant, moving closer to the table, where he deposited a manila folder, then slid it across to her. "Joseph Black Elk joined the United States Navy in 1968, and became part of the SEAL unit in 1971. He served for twenty more years, before being discharged in 1991 after the end of the Gulf War. After that he operated as a mercenary for the CIA as well as multiple PMCs. When the War on Terror rolled around, he found a niche training security forces in Iraq and Afghanistan. Finally, around 2008, he moved back here to Arcadia Bay, where he started his own organization."

Chloe leaned back, staring skeptically. "And whyyyy are you telling me all this?"

"None of it's classified," said Maria. "You can look it up yourself on that phone. The point Special Agent Bryant wishes to make is that Joseph Black Elk is a very dangerous man with a lifetime of military experience that he's now using to wage his own personal war."

"I dunno. He seemed pretty chill to me."

"So you do admit to meeting with him."

A shrug. "Like you'd ever believe me if I said I didn't. I don't know where he is. I was blindfolded the whole way there."

"As I said, his location isn't as important to us as his plans. We're willing to reward you quite well for any information you can give us regarding what he intends to do."

Chloe lunged forward and slammed her hand on the table, next to her phone. "And I told _you_ , I'm not a fucking snitch."

It was silent for a few moments as the other woman stared at her, stone-faced. "Let's try a different approach," she said, opening another folder. "Rachel Dawn Amber. Born July 22nd, 1994. Daughter of Arcadia Bay District Attorney James Amber. Blonde hair, green eyes, dragon tattoo on her right calf. Wears a blue feather earring, honors student at Blackwell Academy. From all accounts, she leads a pretty charmed life. You're lucky to have a friend like her."

She glared, unsure of where this was going.

"Are you aware of how long she's been involved in Joseph Black Elk's organization?"

Time to play dumb. "What?"

Special Agent Bryant sighed. "The Organization for Protecting the Environment Now is only one of the many operations that Joseph Black Elk was responsible for creating. They ran a summer camp nine years ago. I assume that's where she told you she met Samantha?"

She stared blankly, not giving him anything.

Maria leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table and interlacing her fingers. "I'm guessing she never told you about the arms deal that went down during that time?"

"Okay, now I'm actually confused."

"The camp was a front," Bryant elaborated. "Joseph Black Elk arranged for the children of powerful families to attend the camp as an excuse to bring all of their parents into one place. Rachel was inserted to allow James Amber, then a young lawyer and confidential informant for the FBI, to observe the proceedings. A huge amount of guns and cash changed hands that day, and it was supposed to end in a bust. But somehow Joseph escaped, along with all the merchandise."

Chloe stared at him, her arms crossed, then frowned. "Your timeline doesn't add up."

"I beg your pardon?"

"You said Joseph Black Elk moved back here in 2008. That was only five years ago."

"He was preparing for this long before that," said Maria. "After he obtained them, the guns were sold in the middle east, under the table. That provided financing for his current operations."

"Okay, but how the fuck is any of that Rachel's fault?"

"It's not. But that wasn't the end of her involvement."

Leaning back, she crossed her arms and folded one leg over the other. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Yet another folder. "I assume you're familiar with Frank Bowers?"

She raised an eyebrow.

"We know he's your dealer," said Special Agent Bryant. "And that you've performed, shall we call them… favors for him in the past."

"We also know that you currently owe him roughly three thousand dollars," added Maria. "But that's neither here nor there."

"There a point to all this?"

"Drugs have been a convenient source of off-the-books cash flow for terrorists and governments alike for as long as there's been a market for them," said Bryant. "In addition to arms, the Black Elks have connections to several major drug cartels. At one point they operated as a supplier for a man named Damon Merrick, with whom you're certainly familiar. When he disappeared from the game, they started supplying Frank."

Maria retrieved a single photo from the folder. "Rachel and Frank spent a lot of time together in the last three years. During the same time period, she made contact with Samantha Black Elk on multiple occasions. Until six months ago, when she suddenly stopped seeing both of them."

Her composure broke, and she started frantically pawing through the folders. "Where the fuck did you get all this?"

"Your little town isn't as off the radar as you'd think," she continued. "During Joseph's time in the Navy, he frequently butted heads with his superiors over weapons contracts involving a certain Sean Prescott, for whom he holds a special hatred. When he didn't get results by appealing to the chain of command, he decided to start his own war. And Rachel Amber, whether she knows it or not, is caught right up in the middle of it."

"Then why am I the one sitting here instead of her?"

"Rachel's loyalties are clear at this point. But what about yours?"

Chloe stood violently, sending her chair skidding back across the tile. "What the fuck kind of question is that?! I'd never betray Rachel!"

"We're not asking you to," said Bryant. "In a way, you'd be helping her. If she gets connected to any of this, even as an accessory… well, her brilliant future could start to look a lot more cloudy."

"Is that a threat?"

Maria leaned forward. "Not exactly. It's more of an incentive. Work with us, and we promise Rachel won't be dragged down with everybody else."

Shaking her head, Chloe laced her fingers together behind her neck and started pacing back and forth. "This is all a bunch of bullshit. If you had any actual evidence against her you wouldn't bother sharing any of it with someone like me." She slammed her palms down on the table and glared menacingly. "I'm not doing shit for you."

"Have it your way." Producing a small business card, she slid it across the table. "In case you change your mind. The offer's still open for now, but it's only a matter of time before we start making it to others. Like Max Caulfield, for example."

Chloe laughed out loud. "Yeah, good fucking luck with that. Am I free to go?"

"You are."

"Then see you never, assholes." Opening the door, she walked backwards out of the room, flipping each of them the bird.

As she passed Officer Berry, she failed to notice the sound of a text message being sent.

* * *

"Nathan!" Max exclaimed a little too loudly. She looked to Victoria for an explanation.

"Look, I know I promised you ladies a lunch date, but Nathan was in the area and wanted to stop in and see me. Is that okay?"

"I… guess so," she said, trying to keep the freak-out contained. "I was kinda hoping for a girls day out."

"Don't worry, I won't be staying long," said Nathan, retrieving a stray menu from one of the other tables. "Who knew there were this many kinds of tea?"

This was bad. She'd already let the cat out of the bag, so to speak, and couldn't reveal what she knew about the Dark Room when the danger she meant to warn them about was sitting right there deciding between green tea and gingko biloba. It was strange; Nathan actually seemed harmless this close, when he wasn't pointing a gun in her best friend's face or threatening her in the parking lot. Was this the person everyone else had been so dead set on defending?

But Max knew it was all an illusion. Nathan had some seriously unresolved issues that put all of them in danger, and he was being used by a man who preyed on their trust and admiration. She had to get Kate and Victoria to stay away, but how? She could still rewind, but not far enough to stop Nathan from arriving.

' _I can't just tell them everything with him right here, and Victoria wouldn't believe me anyway. But maybe I can use this to my advantage. I just need to take a page out of Rachel's book._ '

"It's good you're here, Nathan," she lied. "We were just talking about what happened to Kate and Victoria at two separate Vortex Club parties. I think some really weird shit is going down."

That got Nathan to look up from the menu, squinting inquisitively at her. "Oh yeah? How do you figure?"

"Kate says she got drugged, and apparently Victoria's missing a big chunk of time as well. I obviously wasn't at those parties, but you helped put them together. I was hoping you could help us solve the mystery."

Playing it cool had never been Nathan's strength, and he reacted impulsively, leaning forward across the table and slamming his forearm down. "What the hell are you saying, bitch?"

"Whoa, calm down, Nathan," said Victoria, laying a hand on his shoulder. "What _are_ you saying, Max?"

"I'm not accusing you of anything," she insisted, waving her hands in a pacifying manner. "You might not be super close friends with Kate, but you care about what happens to Victoria, don't you?"

His offensive foiled, he retreated back into his original position. "Yeah. Of course I do."

"Then help us figure out what happened. If someone's going around dosing girls at Vortex Club parties, don't you want to know who it is?"

"I…" Now he was the one who looked cornered, his eyes darting swiftly between them as he planned his next move. He smashed his hand down on the table, overcompensating. "Yeah! Whoever that bastard is, they won't get away with it!"

Something about Rachel's natural charm must have been rubbing off on her, because even with her rewind, Max doubted she could have pulled that off prior to meeting her. Then again, she'd somehow made friends with Nathan and Victoria in another reality. Her powers had changed her, and Max didn't react with fear in the face of a seemingly impossible challenge. Not anymore.

"Then let's compare notes. Kate, do you want to tell your story?"

Kate had been even more silent than usual since Nathan sat down, staring into her tea. It took her a second to respond, but she snapped upright, shaken out of whatever trance she'd been locked in before. "Uh, right. Right. I don't remember that much. There were drinks there, but I didn't have anything alcoholic."

"No surprise there," Nathan remarked, and before Max could reprimand him, Victoria did it for her.

"Hey! Let her tell her story!"

"Right." He backed down. "Sorry."

Kate looked up a him. "I remember talking to you at some point. You were being nice to me for a change. Then it all turns into flashes, and all I remember seeing was a white room, and someone talking to me in a soothing voice. Like a hospital."

"I remember the same thing," said Victoria. "You took me to your car. I woke up in my dorm, and I had to rush to get to the airport for my flight. I barely made it in time."

Max turned to address him. "Can you verify any of that, Nathan?"

"Well duh," he replied, still a little twitchy but far more composed than before. "I made sure both of them got home safe after each of those parties."

"And what about the hospital? Did you take them anywhere else?"

"No," he insisted. "I don't know what they got dosed with, but it must've made 'em hallucinate. Like how people trip on LSD and claim they got abducted by aliens."

She stared at him coldly. "I'm sure."

"Look, what do you want me to say?" He threw his hands up in the air. "I don't know what else happened!"

Max opened her mouth to reply, but was interrupted by a text message. A second later, everyone else's phones started buzzing as well.

"What the fuck…" Victoria's eyes went wide, and Kate threw one hand over her mouth. Nathan gave a disbelieving chuckle, then shook his head.

Unlocking her phone, she saw a text from Brooke.

 _'hey u weren't at ur dorm so I'm texting u. Rachel just got busted with pot in her locker by mr madsen. she just got escorted off campus.'_

She shoved the phone back in her pocket. "I gotta go."

Without waiting for a response, she stood up and bolted, barely avoiding the server as they dodged around each other.

"Max?" Victoria called out after her. "Hey, wait! I'm your ride! Max!"

But Max had already disappeared. She clenched her fists tight and glared after her.

"Why does she keep _doing_ that?"


	14. Walk The Plank

**Chapter Fourteen  
** Walk The Plank

It may have been spite that caused Chloe to peel out of the police station parking lot, or maybe she was just that desperate to get away from the most surreal experience of her life. Regardless, a cloud of smoke kicked up behind her truck as it roared onto the open road, pulling her hard towards the passenger's side as she hung a sharp left. She grumbled, remembering that she was now super late. The universe really did pick the worst possible times to mess with her.

The phone started ringing.

She glanced at it warily, then looked back at the road. It persisted in not shutting the fuck up, so she flipped it over, scooping it up rapidly when she saw who it was.

"Chloe! I need you to come get me now!"

Rolling her eyes, Chloe kept the phone by her ear as she weaved through traffic. "We really need to get you your own car."

"We don't have time for jokes right now! Rachel's in trouble!"

"Really? How? Is she in danger?"

"Only of being grounded for life. David found two pounds of pot in her locker."

She slammed her hand down on the steering wheel, causing it to jerk sharply to the right, almost sideswiping a gray Subaru, which sent a long honk chasing after her. She quickly course corrected, swerving into the lane on the other side of her as she torpedoed straight through a red light.

"That motherfucker!"

"I got a heads up from Brooke, but it's all over social media by now! This is a disaster!"

"Don't have to tell me twice. Where are you?"

"Near a café in town. I'll text you the address. Don't pick me up right in front of it, though. Park in the loading bay."

"Why?"

"…I may have been having lunch with Victoria Chase. And Nathan."

She swerved again, briefly mounting the curb, thankfully disturbing nothing more than a garbage can. " _What_?!"

"I'll explain when you pick me up," Max insisted. "Hurry, Chloe."

"Sure thing, Max. I'm already there."

* * *

"Drive, drive, drive!" Max commanded as she clambered into the truck before Chloe had even fully stopped.

"Nice to see you too."

Rolling her eyes, she threw her bag on the floorboard as Chloe rocketed out of the loading bay behind the café, back onto the street. Now that she had a passenger, she didn't travel quite so recklessly, though she supposed if she really fucked up, the girl next to her could fix it.

"What the fuck happened with Rachel?"

"All I know is what I told you over the phone. I found a video online, but my shitty data plan won't load it. The internet fucking sucks in this town!"

"Whoa, that sounded more like something I would say," said Chloe, grinning despite everything. "Is Max Caulfield finally ready for her punk phase? You'd look good with blue hair. Or pink."

She flashed an amused smile. "Oh, totally. I could wear some ripped jeans, maybe borrow one of your spiked bracelets. Even get a tattoo."

"Stop it, you're turning me on."

They both laughed, and Max sighed and shook her head, still smiling. "I can never stay mad with you around."

"Really? You'll have to teach me your secret one day. Meantime: why the fuck were you hanging out with Victoria and Nathan?"

"It was just Victoria and Kate at first," she explained, resting her elbow on the windowsill as she adjusted her bangs. "Victoria took down the video after that talk you had with her, and Kate actually forgave her when she apologized. They both invited me to lunch and I said yes. I wasn't expecting Nathan to show up."

"Did he hurt you?"

Max shook her head. "No. I actually tricked him into helping Victoria and Kate find out what happened to them."

"Wait, what? How?"

"I knew I couldn't straight up tell them what happened with him sitting right there, and Victoria probably wouldn't have believed me. But when Rachel and I ran into Nathan yesterday, she got him to apologize to Ms. Hoida by telling him he was a better person than he gave himself credit for."

"She said that with a straight face? She _is_ a good actress."

"That's why I decided to take a page out of her book," she continued. "I appealed to his friendship with Victoria, and she actually helped keep him in line while I grilled him about what happened at both parties. The plan was to back him into a corner so he'd get caught in a lie and they'd both turn on him. It was about to work when I got the news about Rachel."

"Wow." She blinked for a few seconds before turning right at the next intersection, causing both of them to sway gently to the left. "That's almost as weird as my morning."

"What happened to you?"

Chloe smirked. "I got picked up by the feds."

"You did _not_!" Max smacked her shoulder, but the grin didn't fade. "Seriously?"

"I told you going to a wanted terrorist for advice was five hundred miles of bad road." She fished a small business card out of her pocket and handed it off to the other girl. "Here. Proof."

"How'd you escape? And what did they want?"

"They wanted me to snitch on Joseph Black Elk by getting in with Sam. And they told me some shit about Rachel that was definitely made up."

A frown worried its way onto Max's face as she held the card between her fingers and thumbs. "Like what?"

"According to those suits, the Black Elks are one of Frank's suppliers, and Rachel was supposedly running drugs for them until six months ago. They were making a bunch of shit up to get me to do what they wanted; they said if I didn't they'd go after you and Rachel."

"And what did you tell them?"

"I told them to go fuck a horse. They don't have anything that would stick in court. It's all made up."

Max squinted, handing the business card back. She was quiet for a few moments, placing a finger against her chin. "Wait a minute."

"What?"

"Two FBI agents pick you up, saying they'd expose Rachel on trumped up evidence unless you worked for them, and when you tell them no, Rachel just _happens_ to get busted with two pounds of marijuana?"

Chloe's entire mind went blank for a second, then snapped back with a roaring inferno of rage. "Those fucking pigs! When I get my hands on them I'm gonna…" She paused, the fury abating just as quickly as it had appeared. "Wait. No. The timeline doesn't add up."

"Huh?"

"I literally _just_ left the station when you called me. The only way they'd have time to arrange something like that is if they already knew I'd say no. Which, granted, doesn't take a fortuneteller to predict, but they were dead set on getting me on their side. Why burn their one piece of leverage?"

"Well then who'd want to frame her?"

"Step-douche, probably. He's the one who 'found' it."

"Or Nathan," Max postulated. "In the other timeline, you and I investigated Principal Wells' office. There were documents in there saying Nathan and David accused her of bringing drugs on campus. I actually talked to Rachel about it yesterday and she said the drugs were Nathan's." She placed a hand over her mouth and stroked a finger up and down her nose. "Or it could be Frank, trying to pressure you into paying back the money you owe him."

"He gave me 'til Thursday, it can't be Frank," she insisted. "But he could know more about what's happening." Her thoughts froze. "Oh shit!"

"What?"

" _Rachel_ has Frank's money! If they find out about that, not only will it make her look even more guilty, we won't be able to pay him off, and then we'll have _another_ problem! We need to get it before anyone else does!"

Max nodded. "Do you know where it is?"

"At her house, probably. Her dad's at work, but her mom might still be home. We'll have to sneak into her room."

"Then that's where we're headed next."

"Don't you have classes this afternoon?"

"Only with Mr. Jefferson. That's the last place I want to be right now. Rachel's more important."

Chloe flashed her a wicked grin. "You really _are_ turning into a little punk. I approve."

"Maybe I'll be ready for the mosh pit after all."

"What?"

"Nothing. Let's hurry."

* * *

Rachel's eyes followed the dips and rises in the telephone wires, bouncing up and down in a steady, hypnotizing rhythm. Gulls soared lazily overhead, occasionally swooping down with unnecessary flourish. She started counting trees, and when that failed she broadened her pupils to try and make them all blend together.

Anything to avoid looking at her father.

"You have to talk at some point, Rachel."

"I'm exercising my right to remain silent."

They were driving home in her car, since it wasn't allowed on the campus grounds while she was suspended, and her father didn't want her running off to the junkyard or the lighthouse without them getting a chance to talk. She'd only agreed because she didn't feel up for driving after everything that happened that morning. But she wasn't going to make it easy for him.

A handful of minutes passed in which she tried to form sentences out of bumper stickers on different cars. In a rare reversal of fortune, Chloe had introduced her to that one, claiming it was a family favorite when her father took her on camping trips.

' _My kid is an honors student at Blackwell… suck on my truck nutz. Huh. Haven't seen that one before._ ' She examined two more cars. ' _Protect the Second Amendment… keep on truckin'. Okay, that one's just redundant.'_

James sighed. "Rachel, I want you to know I believe you. There's no way that much marijuana would make its way into your locker unless someone planted it there. Even if you did… deal drugs, I know you'd be smarter than to keep your entire stash in a school locker."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence, Dad."

"I'm trying to be supportive. It's just… why _were_ you associating with Frank Bowers? If you could see the file I have on him…"

She chuckled bitterly, propping her elbow against the windowsill as she watched the lane lines blend into infinity. "Yeah, associating with dangerous drug dealers. What kind of monster would do that?"

The words skewered him, and James' reply died in his throat.

"Don't worry, dad. We've avoided talking about it for three years now. I'm ready to go another thousand."

"Rachel, I only ask because I care about you. What happened back then… I never intended for things to go the way they did. You have to understand that."

She rolled her eyes. "Oh yeah? And how _did_ you picture it going?"

James stared straight ahead at the road, pursing his lips as he tightened his grip on the steering wheel, then loosened it again. "She was supposed to disappear. Not… in the way she did, mind you. But he promised me she'd fall right back off the wagon. Her case for shared custody would fall apart, and…"

"Holy fuck, dad. You almost make it sound like a good thing. You'd trust the man who stabbed me in the fucking arm not to kill my mother when you hired him to make her disappear? You're an even bigger asshole than I thought."

"Rachel…"

"You know what I think? I think you're not even sorry for that. You're just worried about that kind of thing getting out if I go down for this. I don't have to tell you why I hung out with Frank. Like I said, it's got nothing to do with this."

He shook his head. "I know I have no right to lecture you after what I've done. But I want to help you. I can't do that unless I have a clear picture of all the evidence. Even if you don't consider your connection to Frank significant, others won't feel the same way."

"You said it yourself, though. Only an absolute moron would believe I'd keep a stash of weed that big in my locker."

"A fact that becomes easier to overlook as other evidence mounts up," he rebutted. "You've been accused before, and associating with a known drug dealer, regardless of whether or not any criminal activity occurred, doesn't help your case."

"No offense dad, but if I need a lawyer, I'd rather it not be you. Conflict of interest and all that."

He frowned, and his eyes returned to the road. "You know, sometimes I wish I could go back in time, and… change it all. It's the small details that really stick with you, all those years later. Maybe if I'd noticed Sera slipping sooner… gotten her help sooner… how much different would things have turned out?"

"We'll never know, will we?"

James nodded solemnly. "I'm sorry, Rachel. For everything."

"Save it." She stared out the window, squinting her eyes to keep out the glare of the afternoon sun. After a minute or so, her icy expression began to thaw. "Dad? There's something you ought to know. About Sera, I mean."

"What is it?"

"I'm only telling you this because even though I will _never_ trust you again, I feel like it might lead to more answers about her. I never stopped digging into her; her past. I never found anything. But last night I learned that Sera did some work for the Prescotts. Starting around thirty years ago."

His mouth stayed shut, and she finally turned to look at him.

"Did you know?"

"If I did, don't you think I would have told you when I spilled all the rest of my secrets?"

"Like I said, dad: I don't trust you anymore. Not after what you did."

"I didn't know. That would have been well before I met her and we had you. The Prescotts mostly stick to Arcadia Bay; I never had any contact with them when we lived in California. If she did, I never knew about it."

"And _after_ we moved here?"

"As the District Attorney, I occasionally deal with Sean Prescott in an official capacity, mostly at social functions and the like. But beyond that, no."

"Then why was Nathan at our house last night? Mom told me you two are part of some mentorship program, but we both know that's bullshit."

James' face hardened into an unreadable mask, and he kept his eyes forward on the road. "That's official as well. Also confidential. It concerns my work, Rachel. That's all you need to know."

"Right, why should I expect you to actually be helpful?"

"It's only fair. I have a right to privacy, just like you do. You can't refuse to share things with me and then expect me to bare all my secrets."

"Whatever. Just shut up and drive."

* * *

"Target in sight," Chloe said in an unnecessarily hushed tone, leaning forward conspiratorially as Max rolled her eyes. "The Amber residence. A humble house in a quiet neighborhood; a perfect slice of small town Americana. But what dark secrets are hidden within?"

"Are you narrating for a documentary now?"

"Our two intrepid detectives sit across the street, waiting for their opening. One is a small town rebel with nothing left to lose. The other takes pretty pictures and can shape time to her will. These are their stories."

"Okay, you straight up stole that last one."

"Hey, fuck off. It's hard to be original all the damn time. You're telling me no one influenced your photography?"

Max pushed her shoulder. "There's a difference between influence and straight up plagiarism. Especially _Law and Order_ plagiarism."

"What? They can't sue me. They don't own it."

"I think they actually do."

"Whatever!" Chloe whipped her gaze towards the house again, gripping the steering wheel. "I'm just trying to hype us up before we go and do something completely fucking stupid."

Leaning over, Max rubbed a hand up and down her arm. "I'm as hyped as I'll ever be. Let's go, Detective Stabler."

"Emphasis on _stab_." She pushed the door open, and the two of them crept across the street, stopping just shy of the brick pathway that ran through Rachel's front lawn. "Okay, good. Her mom's car is gone."

"Or it's in the garage."

"Good point. This way; we can sneak around back."

Chloe led her by the hand towards the rear of the structure, where they could see the window to Rachel's bedroom on the second floor. Releasing the other girl, she planted both hands on her hips and quirked her lips to the side.

"You know, on second thought, we should rethink the detective metaphor. We're here to recover hidden treasure, right? That's gotta justify the return of Captain Bluebeard."

"And me without my eyepatch and stuffed parrot," quipped Max, finally getting into the spirit of things. She squinted, placing a hand above her eyes as she examined the window more closely. "I should be able to climb up the side if you give me a boost."

She pointed to where part of the house extended out from the rear wall, adjacent to the dining room. It ran right underneath Rachel's window, dropping off precipitously after a few feet. Rachel had used it to sneak out on more than one occasion.

"Why can't I climb it? I'm tall and lanky."

"Yes, but you're also half cigarette by this point," she retorted. "And don't worry, you'll be coming up right after me. But I should go up first because I'm the one with rewind powers."

"I'm just saying, I played a rogue for a few sessions in a game Steph was running. I had mad climbing skills."

Chortling in disbelief, Max sent an incredulous expression her way, raising her hands in front of her before letting them fall. "How does that translate into real life?"

"Whatever. We both sucked at PE."

Max laughed and shook her head. "Don't talk. Just boost."

"Up you go then, matey." She held both her hands out, and Max lifted her shoe into the opening, at which point she strained, lifting mightily as she hefted the other girl onto the roof. Max pulled herself onto the small ledge, staring back down at her with a thumbs up.

"My turn now?"

She nodded, lying down on her back and reaching down with both hands as Chloe took a running start, and they caught each other by their elbows. Max's face turned bright red as she pulled, groaning as quietly as she could. Finally she managed to clamber onto the roof, where they both sighed in relief.

"You're heavier than you look."

Chloe smirked. "It's my tragic past weighing down my soul."

She received a smack against the shoulder. "Shut up."

"You're not so light yourself, Amazing Spider-Max."

They both laughed.

"Let's get the window open."

"On it," said Max as she stood and then… disappeared.

"Max?" she whisper-shouted. "What the fuck? Max?"

A tap came from the inside of Rachel's window before a pair of small hands slid it open, beckoning Chloe inside. Max stood there grinning proudly, arms held out to her side. "How the fuck did you get in here?"

"The window was locked, and the great Captain Bluebeard had the bright idea of breaking it with her bare fist. I had to rewind so you wouldn't bleed out from the zillion different cuts you got."

She bobbed her head up and down for a few moments. "Yeah, that sounds like me."

Parting the curtains the rest of the way, Chloe shuffled across the small desk that abutted the window, careful not to knock over Rachel's computer. It suddenly occurred to her that all three of them kept their computer desks directly in front of a window.

The room hadn't changed much at all since Chloe had first seen it three years ago, and it especially hadn't been touched since earlier that morning. The twin masks of tragedy and comedy stood vigil above her dresser, and the various pieces of Rachel's star-related paraphernalia still decorated multiple small corners. The bed was directly across from them, made neatly as if it had never been slept in before. She rested both hands at the base of her skull and began to pivot slowly.

"Okay, now if I were three thousand dollars in cash, where would Rachel hide me?" She smirked at Max. "Now would be the time for that ransacking thing you do so well."

Max craned her head back, appalled. "I don't _ransack_."

"You never met a drawer in your life that you didn't open and snoop around in," she retorted. "What would you call it?"

"Investigating. Ransacking implies a certain degree of desperation. It's not like I'm out there tossing dresser drawers across the room. I'm careful, like a cat burglar."

She crossed her arms and gave her a wry grin. "Interesting comparison. Does this mean you've considered using your powers to lead a life of crime?"

"That depends. Would you be my faithful sidekick?"

"Hell yeah." She stroked her chin. "Rachel would work better as a break-in partner, though. Your powers don't work on her, so you wouldn't need to explain what happened every five minutes like you had to with the window incident."

Max was already examining the bookshelf that lined the wall next to the desk. "Maybe. But I'm not going anywhere without you. Not again."

"That's sweet." She kneeled down and started tearing through the desk drawers. "Let me ask you something, Max: do you like Rachel?"

The other girl paused her search, her hands clutched around a hollow, transparent globe depicting a galaxy. "Uh, yeah? She's an amazing person, and a great friend. I finally see what everyone was talking about."

"Not what I mean." Chloe shifted over to the other side of the desk, sending a glance Max's way. "Do you _like_ her?"

Still confused, Max turned to face her and stared vacantly. "What are you really asking, Chloe?"

"It's fine if you do. I fell in love with her from the first minute I saw her. She has that effect on people." She arched an eyebrow. "I know I joked about it, but did anything actually happen Friday? You can tell me."

Max shook her head. "Nothing actually _happened_ , but…"

"But what?"

"But Rachel absolutely hit on me. She wasn't even subtle about it. I didn't know how to feel. The whole thing seemed like a test. Every time I thought I'd figured out what game she was playing, she changed the rules. I ended up more confused than anything."

"Would you have gone for it? If she wasn't just playing games with you?"

"Chloe…" She looked lost and almost hurt, like she was waiting for the hammer to drop. "I'd never do something like that without making sure you were okay with it. I know how you feel about Rachel, and you and I still have some things unresolved. I'd never betray you like that."

Chuckling, Chloe shook her head. She'd made her sweat enough. "Relax. I'm not jealous. I actually have some news for you."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah. Rachel and I got to talking last night, after we dropped you off at Blackwell. She wants to date both of us."

Now Max was truly confounded. She blinked a few times, her face returning to a blank expression. "Both of us?"

Chloe nodded.

"At the same time?"

"Exactly. She wants all three of us to be in a relationship together. That's why she was testing the waters with you on Friday." She glanced to the side, scratching the back of her neck. "And why I was testing you just now."

"Chloe, that's…"

"I understand if you're freaked out. I definitely couldn't wrap my head around it at first. Maybe I should have waited for Rachel to have this conversation with you. She explains it so much better, and—"

"I'm in."

"What?"

"I'm in," she repeated. "You don't have to sell me on it. It's actually kind of a relief."

"Right? This way none of us have to choose one or the other." She frowned. "It's too bad the universe picked today to absolutely fuck us. Who the hell put that much weed in her locker? I kept a dime bag or two in mine back when I still went to that hellhole, but two pounds? You're sure?"

"It's all over Facebook. My phone still won't load the video, but we can probably pull it up on Rachel's computer."

"Good idea." She disabled the screensaver, and brought up the internet browser. A few clicks later and she found a post containing the video in question.

"Oh, vertical? Seriously? Learn to turn your phone sideways, dillhole!"

"Chloe, shh! We don't know who's still home."

"Right, sorry." The video buffered for a few seconds before playing, and they both squinted, trying to identify what was happening. "Well at the very least, Kate won't need to worry about being a viral video star for much longer. Fucking vultures."

"There could be clues," said Max, leaning in close. Slightly louder than the murmurs of the crowd, they could hear David speaking.

 _"I'm not nearly as old-fashioned as you kids think. The combinations to all these lockers are stored on a secure database, which I have access to. There's even an app for it."_

" _Well, congratulations on making it to the twenty-first century."_

A few seconds passed as David examined his phone.

 _"Aha. There it is."_

 _"David, what the hell? There's nothing in my locker. This is a serious invasion of privacy. I ought to call my dad and—"_

Rachel fell silent, and they saw David produce something from the locker, holding it smugly in front of him.

" _That's marijuana alright_."

"Did he seriously just pronounce it mary-huana?"

"That's how you pronounce it in Spanish."

"I'm pretty sure it's not."

"Whatever. Shush."

"Whoever took this video doesn't know the difference between a camera and a sack of gumballs," she remarked. "Isn't Blackwell like ninety percent art students?"

Max looked to the heavens for deliverance, but found none. "Go back a few seconds."

"Isn't that your power?"

"Chloe…"

"Yeesh. Okay, okay, rewinding."

 _"I'm not nearly as old-fashioned as you kids think,"_ the David in the video said again. _"The combinations to all these lockers are stored on a secure database, which I have access to. There's even an app for it."_

"There," said Max. "That's our next lead. Whoever got into Rachel's locker must have gotten access to that database."

"That narrows our suspects down to exactly one," she replied. "I told you step-douche did it."

"Come on Chloe, think: where would he get access to that much pot?"

"You mean besides raiding my stash?"

"You couldn't possibly have been sitting on _that much_ marijuana. You smoke it too often, and I know you can't afford to buy it in bulk."

"Fair point. I didn't have more than two ounces, actually."

"We've already ruled out Frank, which leaves us with Nathan."

"Who probably _bought_ it from Frank. Although…"

"What?"

Chloe walked backwards, sitting down on the bed as she contemplated. "When Rachel and I got back here last night, Nathan's car was parked out front. According to her mom, Nathan's involved in some kind of mentoring program with Rachel's dad. I don't know what they're actually up to, but why would he plant drugs in her locker if he's working with her dad?"

"Then who did it?"

"I dunno. But right now we need to find that cash."

Max nodded. "Let's keep looking."

* * *

The stained glass doors of the Amber household slammed open as Rachel stomped inside, her father following at a leisurely pace, saying nothing. Pivoting in place, she glanced around the room, confused.

"Where's mom?"

"Oh, I thought she told you. She texted me this morning saying she was meeting Joyce Price at the Two Whales. She should be back later on." He frowned. "We can have a conversation then."

Rachel's hairs stood on end as she remembered the conversation that took place in the dining room. And here she'd thought this day couldn't be any more of a disaster. It had started out so well, too.

"Does that mean I can go to my room?"

He nodded. "You're not grounded. Like I said, Rachel: I believe you. I know there's been a rift between us ever since…" He trailed off, scratching the back of his neck. "I just want you to know that I'm here for you. If you need anything."

Rolling her eyes, Rachel turned away and folded her arms over her chest. "Did you hear _anything_ I said back in the Principal's office? I can't even get in trouble like a normal teenager! Quit being so fucking…"

"What? Supportive? Understanding?"

"Fake! You walk on eggshells around me because you think, somehow, it'll get us back to where we were before you got my mother killed!" She leaned forward, gesticulating wildly. "That's never going to fucking happen! So go ahead! Yell at me! Put your foot down! Tell me I'm grounded forever! Do _something_ that isn't total fucking bullshit for once in your life!"

He stood there as she hollered at him, and took it without complaint. When the storm of her anger broke, he looked up sadly at her, with the face of a broken man.

"I'm not going to do any of that, Rachel. You're my daughter, and I love you. Everything I did, I did it with the intention of protecting you. I didn't realize I'd gone too far until it was too late. I'm sorry."

She shook her head mercilessly. "Not good enough."

With that, she marched up the stairs, towards her bedroom, stomping so hard that she failed to hear the two teenage girls frantically attempting to flee through the window.

* * *

Rachel slammed the door open, and saw Chloe halfway through her window, while Max was right on her heels. The latter turned and extended her arm, and the door flew shut behind her. Chloe walked backwards across the room, stopping at her computer where a video of what had transpired at her locker was playing.

The rewind finished, and Rachel stood there with her hands on her hips, one eyebrow arched.

Max squeaked like a field mouse, her hands flying over her mouth. "Oh crap."

"Max. Chloe." She didn't even have the energy to process this right now. "What are you doing in my room?"

"Trying to save all our asses," said Chloe, striding quickly over to her. "Where's Frank's money?"

"Safe." She leaned back, staring hard at the blue-haired punk she loved so much. "Why do you want to know?"

Chloe groaned. "The whole fucking internet knows what happened this morning. You really think if your dad or step-douche find out my drug dealer loaned us three grand that's not gonna fuck both of us right up the ass?"

"Of course I know that," she replied. "That's why I don't keep it in my bedroom. I get that you're worried, but that doesn't give you the right to break into my fucking house."

"You're right." She sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose and closing her eyes. "But texting you was too risky. For all we knew they could have confiscated your phone."

"They didn't." Rachel held up both arms and began to pace, turning slowly in a circle as she did so. "In fact, I'm barely in trouble at all. You should have heard Wells bend over backwards to kiss my ass even as he was suspending me. And my dad doesn't even want to ground me."

"I'm confused," said Max. "How is that a bad thing?"

"Rachel just feels guilty that she gets held to a different standard than you or me," Chloe answered. "If they found that much weed in _my_ locker I'd be getting a five-to-ten sentence if I was lucky. They expelled me three years ago just 'cause I ditched with her."

"I tried to cover for you. You didn't let me."

"Hey, I never wanted to be at that shithole anyway. You did me a favor. I wasn't gonna let you take the fall for that."

"Whatever. That just proves my point. I don't want to be treated like I'm special. My dad doesn't want to punish me because he knows he doesn't have a leg to stand on after the shit he pulled three years ago. Wells knows Blackwell would get buried in a scandal if it turned out the DA's daughter was dealing drugs right under his nose. David's the only one who seemed halfway interested in actually treating me like a suspect, but the whole thing's moot because that weed wasn't mine to begin with."

"Then what's the problem? This whole thing could get swept under the rug."

"But like you said, the whole fucking internet knows," she pointed out. "I want to be treated like a normal person, not crucified. They're probably burning me in effigy already."

"It'll take more than a viral video for the world to stop treating you like a princess," said Chloe. "Believe me. Besides, given the number of stoners at Blackwell you're probably even more of a god to them now."

"But they're not the only ones who're gonna find out about this! All my parents' friends, college recruiters, the local newspaper, the cops… Chloe, if this blows up, we won't be able to move a fucking inch without someone breathing down our necks, much less do anything on our list. And we can forget about ever leaving Arcadia Bay."

"Someone's already breathing down our necks," said Chloe, scratching the back of her head and handing her a business card. "I got picked up by a couple of suits while I was on my way to meet you at Blackwell. They wanted me to snitch on Joseph Black Elk."

"You told them no, right?"

"Duh. But they tried to extort me by making up a bunch of shit about you."

Rachel handed the card back, then walked past them to her bed, where she sat down. "Oh yeah? Like what?"

"For one, that summer camp where you met Sam was supposedly a front for an arms deal."

"It was," she revealed. "Didn't know it at the time, of course. I found out later, when Sam and I got reunited."

"How _did_ you get back in touch with her?" asked Max, crossing her arms and walking closer. "Those agents told Chloe you were running drugs for her and Frank. That's not true, is it?"

She shook her head. "Of course not."

"But you _were_ spending time with both of them," said Chloe. "Weren't you?"

"Fine. You want the whole story? We needed money to leave. How do you think I convinced Frank to front you all that cash? I wasn't running drugs, I was running messages. Stuff that was too sensitive to send over texts when all sorts of people could have been monitoring their communications. Sam and Frank couldn't be seen together, so I was their go-between. That all stopped six months ago, right after Max called. I realized I couldn't do it anymore."

"What kind of messages?"

"Mostly logistical stuff. Frank kept paper ledgers, and I delivered photocopies to Sam. I also passed on orders to Frank. It was all pretty boring, actually. Neither of them ran things like Damon."

Max craned her head back. "Who's Damon?"

"Damon Merrick," answered Chloe. "Violent son of a bitch who ran the drug trade three years ago. He also had his hands in dog fighting, loan sharking… if it was illegal and it happened in Arcadia Bay, he was probably involved."

"He also got hired by my scumbag father to keep my biological mother from reuniting with me," added Rachel. "She was suing him for shared custody, so he paid Damon to kidnap her and get her re-addicted to drugs after she'd been sober for a year."

"But not for free." Chloe scowled, staring at the floor. "He stabbed Rachel in the arm when we asked Frank to help us find Sera, so while her parents were staying with her at the hospital, Rachel had me break into her dad's office. I found a burner phone with texts from Damon, and he had me destroy evidence and point out which of his guys was a snitch. I convinced him it was some asshole who whined about me spilling his beer."

"What happened then?"

"I went to the mill, where he was holding Sera. I offered him the money to let her go, but… well, I was sixteen years old and he was a violent psychopath, so that went about as well as you'd expect. He injected Sera with a fatal dose, and he would have killed me too if Frank hadn't shown up. Somehow Frank killed him, even though he was wounded pretty bad from fighting him earlier."

Max took several steps back, clutching her forehead. "Holy shit. So that's what you meant the other night. About your dad owing you."

Rachel nodded.

"Why didn't you tell me you were involved in all this?" asked Chloe. "I could have helped. It's not like I'm a stranger to running errands for Frank."

"I know. But I was doing it so you wouldn't have to. I thought it would never come up. Guess I was wrong."

"So you'll freak out about your dad lying to you for years, then turn around and do the same thing to your best friend? How many more secrets are you keeping from me, Rachel?"

"Chloe!" Max stepped between them. "Ease up, okay? I'm sure she had a reason."

"Well I'd love to hear it!"

"I was doing it for us, okay?" Rachel stood up and marched forward, forcing Max to step out of the way. "The reason I never told you is because it'd attract less attention that way. Look at me! Would you for a minute suspect that the Queen of Blackwell would be involved in something like that?"

"Obviously I didn't."

"Exactly! But you're too much of a…"

Chloe's nostrils flared, and she stepped closer. "A what? Say it!"

"A punk! A delinquent! Someone the cops would _instantly_ suspect if they saw you spending more time with Frank than it took to buy your monthly bag of weed. But hey, I figured if people are gonna refuse to treat me like a criminal anyway, I might as well take advantage of that!"

"Well clearly that didn't work! The FBI threatened to burn you if I didn't work for them! I might've actually said yes if I knew it was all true! How the fuck could you put me in this position?"

"What are you talking about?"

"Who suggested we go see a domestic terrorist just to find out about superpowers you may not even have? Huh? Who put us all on their radar?! Because it sure as hell wasn't me or Max!"

Rachel deflated, clutching her forehead and collapsing back onto the bed. "Fucking shit."

"Damn straight."

"We can still get out of this," said Max. "We just need to find out who put the bag of weed in your locker. Chloe and I found a lead."

Her face softened. "Really?"

"In the video. David said all the locker combinations are kept on a secure database. If we can find out who got access to that…"

"How? It's not like they signed a guest list."

"Warren and Brooke should know. Brooke programmed custom flight patterns for her drone, and Warren's taken a computer science class or two. They'll know where to start."

"Meantime, you and I need to get that money and pay off Frank before this gets any more complicated," said Chloe. "I know we have until Thursday, but who knows what other bullshit will spring up by then?"

"Agreed," said Rachel. "But not without Max. If things go sideways with Frank… well, I wouldn't mind having a human rewind button this time around."

"Then I'll help her with her little errand and we'll meet up later. Just get the money ready."

She nodded. "Roger that. And Chloe?"

"What?"

"Have you talked to Max about… the other thing?"

Max nodded. "She did. And I'm on board."

"Good. One less thing to worry about. We'll have to celebrate."

"Later," said Chloe, already climbing out the window. "Right now we gotta dig you out of this hole. I'll text you when we're ready."

"Sure thing. And next time use the front door, okay?"

She smirked wickedly. "This pirate makes no promises." She proceeded to fall backwards, landing with a hard thud on the ledge. Her hand appeared a moment later, forming a thumbs-up. "I'm fine!"

As if synchronized, Max and Rachel both facepalmed. "We'll get you out of this, Rachel. I promise."

"I know, Max." She rose from the bed and kissed her on the cheek. "For luck."

She waited a few seconds for the blood to stop rushing to her face, then followed Chloe out the window. Rachel stared after them with her arms crossed.

"This has been a hella strange morning."


	15. Source Code

**Chapter Fifteen**  
Source Code

Even on a slow day, the Two Whales diner had more than its fair share of regulars who stopped in for some fresh coffee, a hot meal, and Joyce's trademark charm. In some ways she was a bigger draw than the food itself; she was so embedded in the social tapestry of Arcadia Bay that her influence rippled out in more ways than many would ever know.

A motley assortment of customers sat along the central counter, consisting of two truckers, a couple salarymen, and a reporter from the Beacon. The booths were populated a little more sporadically, with local skater punks Justin and Trevor sitting nearest the door, accompanied by a girl from Blackwell whose name Joyce didn't know, but who wasn't dressed like she should be hanging out with those two.

Closer to the jukebox, a bronze-skinned woman sat alone, dressed in faded jeans and a black leather jacket, watching the diner as she knocked back another coffee. Behind her, a man in a suit folded his newspaper and left, depositing his tip in cash. Joyce swooped in and collected it, then made her way back behind the counter.

A few minutes later, she saw a few more Blackwell students arrive, two girls accompanied by Nathan Prescott. She knew one girl's name was Victoria, but the other escaped her. They turned left at the door, settling into a booth towards the back corner. Joyce caught bits of their conversation, but soon found herself having to keep up with the constant stream of orders.

She'd hit upon a rare moment of peace when Rose Amber walked into the diner, motioning to the side with her head. Joyce gave her an understanding nod before stepping out from behind the counter, following her over to the jukebox.

"Rose!" she greeted cheerfully, and the two women briefly hugged. "You look marvelous."

"Thank you," the other woman replied as they stepped back to an appropriate distance. "I wish I could stay and have something, but I already ate breakfast this morning. Do you have a few minutes?"

She nodded. "I can make the time."

"Good. I just wanted to let you know Chloe stayed over last night, in case you were worried about her."

Joyce rested a hand on her forehead. "Oh thank God. I actually was worried, thank you. But you have my cell phone number. Why make the trip all the way down here?"

"I needed to get out of the house anyway," she replied with a shrug. "But that wasn't the only thing I wanted to talk to you about."

On its own, her hand came to a rest on her hip, and she raised a concerned eyebrow. "What did she do now?"

Rose laughed and waved her hands back and forth in a placating gesture. "No, it's nothing like that. I wanted to know if you and your husband would like to come over for dinner tomorrow night. Our daughters are such good friends, but our families hardly ever spend time together. Best of all, you don't have to cook."

"I'll have to see if David's free, but I think we can make that work. Is there a special occasion?"

"That depends on how you look at it. I'll text you later with details." She turned and started heading towards the door.

"Now hold on a second," said Joyce. "If you think I'm gonna let you leave my diner without trying some of my famous coffee you've got another thing coming. "Go ahead and have a seat, it's on me. Fresh from the pot."

"Well, I suppose I can stay a few minutes," she replied, and took a seat at the counter, near the various baked goods on display behind the glass.

Joyce brought the coffee as promised, and Rose politely accepted it. She made her rounds again, topping off the truckers' coffee and checking with the Blackwell students. She tried her best not to wrinkle her nose at Nathan Prescott, but if he noticed her failure to do so, he didn't remark upon it.

"Welcome to the Two Whales. Can I get you kids anything?"

"Coffee," said Nathan.

"Same," Victoria agreed. "Two sugars. And a menu please, I'm fucking starving."

"What about you, honey?" she asked the second girl, who looked meekly up at her.

"Just coffee," she replied. "Can you put the creamer on the side? I like to put it in myself."

She smiled. "Of course, Sugar. Coming right up."

After fulfilling their requests, she made her way past the other booths, giving Justin and Trevor a refill. The girl they were hanging out with, whose name she had learned from various overheard comments was Dana, had a full glass of water that she'd barely touched, and was finished with her eggs. Joyce scooped up the plate, depositing it back behind the counter, then made her way back to Rose.

"How's it taste?"

"It's, ah, it's good," she replied hurriedly, trying to brush past a little white lie. "Definitely has that down to earth quality."

"You can ask for sugar or creamer, you know," Joyce said with a smirk. "Or admit that you're used to whatever fancy stuff the DA has imported."

Rose cracked a smile. "James actually has the worst taste in coffee. It could be actual motor oil in his cup and I wouldn't be able to tell the difference. He doesn't seem to mind, though."

"And Rachel? How does she take her coffee?"

"Black, actually. I asked her why once, and she told me if you have to sweeten something up before you can stand it, you probably shouldn't have it at all."

She laughed out loud, and Rose joined in after a moment. "That is one hell of a daughter you're raising."

"We're proud of her. I didn't achieve half of what she has when I was her age. There have been a couple rough patches, but I wouldn't trade it for the world."

"It's the same with Chloe. She can be a pain in the butt sometimes, but I love her. Who would have thought they'd make such good friends?"

Rose shrugged. "I wouldn't have seen it coming. But stranger things have happened." She took another sip of the coffee. "You know what? This is actually pretty great."

"Everything tastes better with a little conversation," she said. "You enjoy that now."

With that, she returned to her rounds, making her way over to the young woman occupying the booth by the jukebox. She had finished her third cup of coffee, and Joyce poured her another. "So are you here for the coffee, or do you just like the atmosphere?"

The woman gave her a curious glance, then smiled faintly. "I'm waiting for someone, actually. They're late."

"Well, let me know if you want anything other than coffee."

"I couldn't help overhearing what you said." The woman's eyes were fixed upon her now, and Joyce craned her neck back slightly, cautious. "About your daughter, I mean. Do you get along well?"

Her hand went to her hip. "Well enough. Why do you ask?"

"Sorry. You just remind me of my mother. I caused her so many heart attacks when I was a teenager. It's a wonder I made it out of those years alive."

"She's given me a few scares, that's true enough. Mostly she just sits in her room or hangs out around town. Nothing too dangerous, most of the time. I just wish she'd do something with her life instead of waste all her energy rebelling against authority."

"Teenagers can't see more than five feet in front of them most of the time. After my parents moved away they sent me to live with my grandfather. He taught me everything I know. Believe me, with you for a mother, I'm sure your daughter will turn out alright in the end."

"I can only hope."

"What about her father? I'm sure he can give her some tough love if she needs it."

Joyce smiled sadly and shook her head.

"I say something wrong?"

"No, it's just… her father's been gone five years now."

"I'm sorry to hear that."

"Thank you."

"So the husband that other woman invited to dinner…"

Joyce fixed her with a stare, cocking one eyebrow. "You really couldn't help overhearing, huh?"

A shrug. "You _were_ standing right there."

"I suppose that's fair enough. His name's David. He's Head of Security at Blackwell Academy. Before that he served in Afghanistan."

"Sounds impressive. My grandfather served too. Navy SEALs. He on leave?"

"Discharged. He's home for good."

"Count yourself lucky. No telling what can happen over there."

Joyce smirked. "Ain't that the truth. It's been hard for him, coming back. It'd be nice if Chloe showed him a little more respect and understanding. Of course if she were here she'd say that's a two way street. I don't know how to make them get along."

"It's not something you can force," she said. "It'll either happen or it won't. In the end we don't just make choices; our choices make us."

She nodded warily. "I'll keep that in mind…"

"Sam."

"Joyce. Nice to meet you."

"Pleasure's all mine. Your coffee's fantastic."

"Why thank you. Let me know if you need anything else."

A smile appeared on Sam's face once more. "You got it."

* * *

"You know, I almost regret never experiencing dorm life," said Chloe as they walked down the hall, towards Max's room. It was empty this time of day, what with all the other residents having classes to attend, so none disturbed them on their way. "They say communal living is the future anyway; might as well get some practice with it."

Max rolled her eyes. "It's completely lame. Everyone knows everybody else's secrets, we're constantly out of toilet paper, and it's a black hole of drama. Even worse, our cycles are starting to align because we're living so close together."

"I'd like to see step-douche try and enforce any rules in here when that time of the month rolls around," she said. "But it can't be all bad, right? As much as I shit talk this place, it really does have everything you ever wanted in a school. It wasn't the right fit for me, but you could have it made here. Especially if you broke out those powers more often."

"I'm not going to abuse them. Not after seeing what they can do to the world around me if they get out of control."

"But you said it wasn't your powers that caused that; it was what happened to Rachel."

"And my powers made it worse. It has something to do with the Law of Conservation of Energy. Rewinding time takes a lot of power, and it even takes a physical toll on me. That's why my nose starts bleeding when I do it too much."

"Wait, are you shortening your life every time you use them?"

"I don't think so. But I'm sucking energy out of the fabric of reality, and there's only so much it can take before it starts tearing at the seams. When we played around with them in the other timeline I completely burned out, right before I had to talk Kate down off the roof."

"God, that must have sucked. I'm so glad you didn't have to do that this time around."

"So am I. That's one good thing about living here. I was in a really bad headspace last night, but she kept me company and made me feel a lot better."

Chloe smiled. "It's a good thing you have friends here. Speaking of which, when are they meeting us again?"

"Brooke and Warren have to finish up Chem class, then they'll meet us here. We've still got half an hour."

"Hm. what will we do with all that time…?"

"Down, Chloe. Business before pleasure."

"You're no fun."

By this time they had reached her door, and she opened it to allow Chloe inside. The blue haired punk flashed a giant grin, spinning around before plopping down on Max's bed.

"See what I'm talking about? This room is so… you. It's like I'm inside your mind right now."

Max closed the door, then crossed her arms and gave her a crooked smile. "How's the view from in there?"

"Everything's so neat and organized… be a shame if someone were to mess it all up."

"Yes, how would I ever recover?"

She tapped a finger against her chin. "If only you had the power to manipulate time and space…"

"Just time is enough for me. But seriously, Chloe: these powers aren't a toy. I've barely even used them since I got to this timeline because I'm so afraid of fucking everything up again. And I hate the way my head feels when I overuse them."

Chloe stood, then moved in closer and took Max's hands in her own. "Look, I'm just joking around. But there's so much about your powers we still don't understand. I've accepted that Rachel's connected to Arcadia Bay on a deeper level, but what about you? Or me, for that matter? How did you end up getting powers when you didn't even know her?"

"I still think I got the powers because of you," said Max. They moved over to the couch and sat next to each other, where Chloe wrapped an arm around her shoulder. "That place I went to—the Dead Side of Forever—you've been there too. I don't think it's a coincidence that I ended up there when all of reality was falling to shit because of my powers."

The taller girl nodded, considering that. "If that's a real place and not just some nightmare, then maybe that's where all the energy goes when you use your powers."

"Huh?"

"You brought up the Law of Conservation of Energy. If you're sucking it out of one dimension to fuel your rewind, it has to be going to another."

Max stroked her chin, squinting. "I saw William in there. He told me even time has to end somewhere. And whatever that… thing was that was messing with my head, it told me all of the alternate timelines end up in that place. I'm not really sure how much of it I should believe, but I know it's connected to you somehow. To all of us."

"How do you figure?"

"Every time I got a vision of the tornado, you were somewhere nearby," she explained. "The only exception was when I went to San Francisco in one timeline, but even then you'd been trying to call me because it was already happening. And when I went to that place yesterday, a version of you showed me the way out."

"Yeah, but you got a vision in Jefferson's class while I was all the way out by the Two Whales."

"That's because whatever's in that place already knew about me. But think about it: if my powers are related to that place, maybe you're some kind of… medium. If not for you, I would never have discovered them."

"What are you saying, Max?"

"I'm saying maybe it's not just me and Rachel who got powers out of all this. Maybe it all stems from you. From your connection to that place."

"Okay then, that begs the question: what's so important about me?"

Max smiled, leaning more strongly against her. "Well, you're my best friend in the whole world, and now you're more than that. You mean so much to Rachel too. Not to mention your mom, and—"

"Haha, smartass. I meant why am I serving as a conduit for a parallel dimension that gave you time travel powers?" She paused for a moment. "That sounded so fucking weird."

"Rachel told me yesterday that nothing in life has any inherent meaning," she said. "But we can create that meaning for ourselves. There might not be any larger reason behind it."

"You realize that's just textbook existentialism, right? It doesn't explain how all three of us ended up in the middle of this crazy fucking conspiracy. We might not be able to see it, but whatever that thing is that you ran into in there has gotta have a bigger plan. Maybe it's the same reason aliens only abduct random weirdos: so no one will take them seriously."

Max craned her head back. "You believe in aliens now?"

"After everything else that's happened? Why the fuck not? If we found out those suits that picked me up were from the fucking X-Files division I wouldn't even be surprised."

"When the other you lectured me on chaos theory, you talked about strange attractors," said Max. "Could that explain why we're all in the middle of this even though, aside from that, we're just nobody?"

"Nobody is nobody," said Chloe. "We all mean something to someone else. The whole idea behind chaos theory is that our actions have effects so far reaching that we'll never even notice, and if we didn't exist, so many tiny things would be different in ways we can't even quantify."

"So the universe would miss us if we were gone?"

"In some small way, I guess." She wrapped her arm tighter around Max, drawing her closer. "But as far as I know it doesn't have a vindictive streak. I thought about what you told me: about the world where you saved my dad, only for me to wind up in a car accident instead. That's so unfair it _can't_ have just been a coincidence."

"I know what you mean. That whole week it felt like _something_ was out to punish me for using those powers. You started almost dying, then _actually_ dying, in ways that wouldn't have made any logical sense unless some higher power wanted you dead."

"Something like… an evil trickster spirit from a nightmare dimension that tried to make you go crazy?"

"Maybe. But then why did I get these powers if I wasn't supposed to use them?"

Chloe squinted at the photo collage on the opposite wall, above Max's bed. "What if we've been thinking about this all wrong?"

"What do you mean?"

"Remember what Joseph Black Elk said? About how Rachel's powers weren't actually meant for her? What if you _weren't_ supposed to get those powers? What if it was a total accident and whatever's in charge of keeping order in the universe tried to stop you from tearing reality apart?"

"Then it totally failed. I was able to make this timeline and save Rachel."

"Yeah, and now another tornado's coming. What if whoever's up there has been trying to tell you to knock it off?"

Max sat up straighter, gesturing with her arms. "Well what am I supposed to do, Chloe? It's not like I can give them back. All I can do is try and avoid using them, but if you or Rachel get put in danger, I'm not going to just let it happen."

"You know my feelings on authority. Whatever's trying to send you a message, you don't have to listen to it. This power belongs to you now."

"If you say so."

"I do." Chloe rubbed her knuckles across the top of Max's head, and the other girl crashed into her again. "Time is your bitch, Max Caulfield."

"You are ridiculous."

"Yeah, but you love me."

She smiled, then looked up into her eyes. "You got that right," she said, then kissed her.

* * *

From her vantage point at the end of the diner, Sam could see the interlocking pieces of the complex social mechanism at work. Joyce Price was at the center of everything, like the gears in a clock, and whether they were conscious of it or not, everybody danced to her tune. This diner wouldn't be nearly as famous without such a charismatic woman running it. It really made her wonder how she'd ended up raising such a punk.

Then again, the dead father did answer a few questions. She didn't know many details beyond William Price's obituary, but then the living were always more informative than the dead.

Her eyes caught movement near the door, and in staggered a man in a ratty jacket, a navy blue baseball cap, and a tattoo on his neck. His eyes were surrounded by a shade of red that came from keeping odd hours, and looked like little black beads that shifted around on their own, watching his surroundings almost on instinct.

After he finished verifying that the diner was secure, the man slid into the booth across from her, and Sam flashed a rare grin.

"Frank fucking Bowers. You look like shit, man."

He huffed. "Won't be winning any beauty contests yourself, sweetheart."

When most men called her condescending pet names, she liked to see how many of their fingers she could break before they cried for their mothers. Frank was the lone exception, because unlike them, he wasn't using that word to talk down to her.

"So what's the deal?" he asked, gesturing around them. "I don't hear from you in six months, then all of a sudden you want to get lunch together? I didn't think you ever left your bar."

Sam shrugged. "What can I say? It doesn't hurt to try new places."

"This wouldn't have anything to do with a certain someone flashing bills at your bar on Friday, would it?"

"Sort of. I'm more interested in a friend of hers. What can you tell me about Chloe Price?"

He blinked. "What do you wanna know for?"

With anyone else, the word "fuck" would have featured somewhere in that sentence, but Frank respected her. They were each other's exceptions in many respects.

"She's the one you loaned that money to, right? I know she's been a customer of yours for a while. She also has a habit of sticking her nose where it doesn't belong."

"Ain't that the goddamn truth. I tried warning her off of you yesterday when I saw her outside this place. Guessing it didn't take?"

She smirked. "What do you think?"

"So what do you want me to do?"

"At the moment? Listen. She and Rachel went to meet the old man last night, and they brought a friend with them."

"A friend?"

"Max Caulfield. Blackwell student. Basically harmless. Except she seems to know way more than she should."

"Can't help you there. Don't know her."

"Not what I need your help with anyway. An interesting name came up last night: Sera Gearhardt."

Frank's face turned to stone and he narrowed his eyes, growing contemplative. Sam leaned forward.

"You remember what happened… the last time Chloe and Rachel came asking after her, right?"

He nodded.

"You got lucky. Damon was already about to go down. I know you two were close, but at least with the way things turned out he couldn't drag anyone else with him."

His scowl grew deeper. "Damon was getting as rabid as his dogs. After what he did, I had to put him down."

"Like I said: a regrettable turn of events, but one that would have happened one way or another. I'd rather avoid it happening again."

"Why would it? Sera's gone."

"But the shit she left behind isn't." Sam leaned back and took a sip of her coffee, resting one arm on the back of the seat. "Apparently, and I verified this myself, Sera worked for the Prescotts, starting around thirty years ago. Wasn't anything too complicated: mostly volunteering in a few medical trials, but after a certain point the files started getting redacted and classified. All I got was the name of some military project: Operation Charybdis."

"Operation what?"

"Read _The Odyssey_ some time, man. Get some culture in you."

"Whatever. Why's it got you so worried?"

She moved in closer, her voice barely above a whisper. "If those three Nancy Drews end up ruining everything we've worked so hard to build by digging around the Prescotts, I'm liable to kill them myself. The old man's willing to help them, but you and I both know Rachel's a drama hurricane. If she goes down this path, she's gonna leave a trail of devastation behind her. Just like before."

Frank pursed his lips, then nodded grimly. "So what do you want me to do?"

"Warn 'em off, but don't make it obvious. Telling those girls what not to do will only make 'em rebel harder. Make them think it's their idea."

"How the fuck am I supposed to do that?"

"I'm sure you'll think of something. Just handle it, before I have to."

"Fine."

She passed him a menu. "Now tell me what you're ordering, Frank. It's my treat."

* * *

Brooke and Warren arrived as scheduled, and after a brief knock on the door, they were invited into the room.

"Hey Max," said Warren. "And… Chloe, right?"

Chloe rolled her eyes. "Does no one here remember me? We were all in a class picture together."

"Kinda hard when you never showed up for Chem," said Brooke, standing by the door with her arms crossed. She turned to Max. "Speaking of which, I see you're ditching again. Wells hasn't noticed yet, but I wouldn't push it."

"How is it ditching? I'm on campus… technically."

"Dude, even I wouldn't try that one," said Chloe.

"This shit with Rachel is way more important to me right now. She's already in serious trouble, and it could get way worse."

Brooke nodded. "You can say that again. I always liked Rachel. She's cool to hang around. No way that weed was hers."

"So whose was it?" asked Warren. "Someone had to have planted it there."

"I'm glad you asked." Max gestured towards the wall, where her photo collage had been replaced with one of another sort, connected to each other by strands of red yarn. "I put this together while we were waiting for you."

Chloe huffed aggressively. "Hey, I helped!"

"You sat there playing my guitar making jokes about plucking my g-string."

Warren barely suppressed a snicker.

"See, he gets it!"

" _Anyway_ ," said Max. "We have it narrowed down to a few people." She pointed to the wall. "Chloe's first and only suspect is David Madsen, the one who found the drugs in her locker. He had the easiest access, and he'd accused her of bringing drugs on campus before."

She gestured to the next photo on the wall. "That's something he had in common with our next suspect, Nathan Prescott. Nathan and Rachel are friends, but she told me he tried to narc on her at the beginning of the year, which is part of the reason she took a leave of absence last semester."

Brooke nodded, squinting. "I think you should take a closer look at Victoria Chase. She's always been jealous of Rachel. Could've wanted to sabotage her."

"The problem with all three of those suspects is the same," said Max. "Where would they get the drugs? That brings us to another person of interest, Frank Bowers. He's the biggest player in the drug business in Arcadia Bay, and would have been able to provide any one of them with the hookup."

"How the hell do you know all this, Max?"

Chloe raised her hand. "From me. Shockingly, the juvenile delinquent knows a lot about Arcadia Bay's seedy underbelly."

"So all we need to do is figure out who bought the drugs," said Warren. "I gotta say though, I've seen that dude around town. Seriously scary guy."

"He puts on a tough guy act 'cause of the business he's in, but he's not that bad once you get to know him," she insisted. "And we've got that part covered anyway. We need your help with something else."

"What is it?"

"We watched the video," said Max. "And you two were standing right there while it happened. David mentioned the combinations for all the lockers are stored on a secure database that he accessed through an app. If we find out who got access to that database, we'll know who got into her locker."

"Easier said than done," Warren told her. "Theoretically you could pull up the logs and see which devices logged in, but without physical access to the server you'd have to connect remotely using a phone that has the app on it."

"That wouldn't get you access to the server," said Brooke. "You'd only be able to pull logs off the app on that phone. For root access like that you'd need a computer system connected to the main server. Funny thing is, this town is small enough that it's actually possible."

"You lost me at 'logs,'" said Chloe. "Who do we need to talk to?"

"You remember Steph Gingrich, right? Her dad owns the company that developed the app. I heard she even helped program it."

"Wait, seriously? That's fucking boss."

Max quirked her lips to the side and grabbed her left arm. "Where do we find her?"

"She works at the Center for the Arts, where we had that improv thing on Saturday," Warren reminded her, scratching the back of his head. "Weird to think that was only three days ago."

"I have her number," said Chloe. "I'll see if she can meet up. You nerds wanna come with?"

Brooke shook her head. "I have class with Mr. Jefferson in an hour. And unlike some people, I want to keep my scholarship."

"I'm all done for the day," said Warren. "Science lab got cancelled because Ms. Grant couldn't make it today. I could tag along."

Unconsciously, the other girl glared daggers at Max. "Sounds fabulous. Don't let me stop you."

"Oh, by the way," Max said before Brooke could leave. "Keep this on the DL, but Chloe and I are… together now."

Warren blinked. "Wait, really?"

"Uh-huh."

"That's… awesome! I can see why." He turned to Chloe. "You _are_ totally slamming."

"Thanks dude."

"How'd it happen?" asked Brooke. "I didn't even know you were…"

Max shrugged, glancing over to her blue-haired girlfriend. Her _girlfriend_. "It just kinda did. Even though we were apart for five years, when we found each other again it was like no time had passed. We just made it official today."

"Well, congrats."

"Thank you. And if there's someone special that you have your eye on… don't be afraid to tell them how you feel."

"Uh, sure Max. I'll see you all later." With that, she practically bolted from the room.

Warren stood there uncomfortably for a few seconds. "So, uh, we heading there soon? Or did you two want some time alone?"

Max chuckled. "Let's go, you two. I have a feeling this day's just gonna keep getting weirder."


	16. So Now You're Back from Outer Space

**Chapter Sixteen  
** So Now You're Back from Outer Space

The Arcadia Bay Center for the Performing arts did not exactly have a long and storied history, with most artistic productions in the area taking place at Blackwell Academy. But for those who had either graduated or left due to other circumstances, or who didn't want to practice theatre under the bizarre limits set by the Prescott donations, it proved a welcome haven for all.

Max, Chloe, and Warren walked across the strip-mall parking lot and into the building itself, down the old hallways that still reminded Max of where a low budget business conference might be held. When they reached the auditorium, things became a little more appealing, but not by much.

They saw Steph sitting by the tech booth, surrounded by three others. One was tall and wore a letterman's jacket from Oregon State University, while another, significantly skinnier young man sat next to him. They only saw the other from behind, but Chloe tensed visibly next to her before shaking it off.

"Yo, Steph!"

The four of them turned to face the new arrivals, and the youngest of them waved back.

"Hey Chloe!"

"Mikey! Waddup?"

By this time they had ventured close enough that Max recognized the fourth individual, who was average height, with broad shoulders and a crew-cut. He smiled at her as the realization hit him too. "Max?"

"Eliot? What are you doing here?"

Eliot Hampden had gone to school with her and Chloe since kindergarten, but strangely hadn't been present when she came back. Or not so strange, since she literally hadn't thought about him since leaving for Seattle. She had almost forgotten him entirely.

It did not go unnoticed by her that Chloe had moved in closer, ready to place her body between them in some sort of protective gesture. She squinted, glancing at the other girl, who was now mildly glaring at their old friend.

"I'm back in town for a little while, along with Drew," he revealed. "He's on fall break from OSU, and I wanted to see some old faces."

She turned to the tall man in the letterman jacket. "I take it you're Drew?"

It was Chloe who answered. "Drew North. Three years ago he was the star quarterback for the Bigfoots. Glad to see you still got into college, despite the whole… knee incident."

Max blinked. "Knee incident?"

He gestured to a surprisingly intact knee. "Broke it senior year. Had to do a lot of physical therapy, which wasn't easy to afford on account of my dad's situation, but Steph and Mikey here organized a crowdfunding campaign to pay for insurance. I had to take a year off, and I couldn't get in 'cause of football, but it turns out I'm not just a dumb jock after all."

Chloe crossed her arms and cocked an eyebrow. "Meaning?"

"Unlike some of the team, Drew never needed to take paper classes to keep his grades up," said Steph. "His admissions essay really impressed a lot of people, and his recovery story got him a lot of sympathy. It's not a full ride, but…"

He shrugged. "But I realized there's more to life than just football. I'm majoring in business, with a minor in computer science. My dad always wanted me to be more than just a fisherman like him."

"That's great," said Max, who then turned to Eliot. "What have you been doing these past few years?"

"Got a job in Portland," he revealed. "Taking a bit of a vacation. What brings you back to Arcadia Bay?"

"I got into Blackwell," she revealed. "Came back into town and reconnected with Chloe. We're actually—"

"Here to ask Steph for help," Chloe interrupted curtly, still glaring at him. "Good seeing you, though."

By this point the unspoken tension between him and Chloe had grown considerably less polite, and the other girl had moved further in between them. Max resolved to grill her about it later.

"You too," he replied. "But I've got some more stuff to do in town. You coming, Drew?"

Drew nodded. "Let's go, Mikey."

Once they were safely out of earshot, it was Warren who asked aloud what Max only had the courage to think. "Did something happen between you and Eliot?"

Chloe whirled on him. "What gave you that impression?"

"I dunno. Things just seemed kinda tense."

"I… kinda got him arrested," she admitted, scratching the back of her neck. "And kicked out of Blackwell."

"Wait, that was _you_?" asked Steph. "I always wondered why he suddenly got expelled."

"Look, it's really not a big deal. I was helping Rachel and he… got caught in the middle of it. I don't really want to get into it."

"Would this be around the same time Rachel got stabbed three years ago?" she asked. "By the same guy who broke Drew's leg?"

She nodded. "That actually brings me to why we're here. You hear what happened this morning?"

Squinting with one eye, Steph regarded her curiously. "I've just been working. Hung out with those three for a while, but they didn't mention anything. Why?"

"Rachel got busted with two pounds of pot in her locker," said Max. "We think she's being framed, and we need your help to find out who did it."

She settled back into the tech booth, leaning back in her chair. "Holy shit. What can I do?'

"Before my step-crack opened her locker, he mentioned an app that holds all the combinations," said Chloe. "And Warren's little gal pal Brooke says your dad owns the company that made it." She crossed her arms and quirked her lips to one side. "Would you maybe have server access?"

Steph leaned forward, interlacing her fingers together. "I might. The main server is actually in California, where it's part of a larger data center. My dad's company just pays them to host it. But I have the dev kit on my laptop. What do you need server access for?"

"We need to know the IPs and Device IDs that accessed the server within the last few days," said Warren. "That way we can tell who had access."

"Okay, even assuming it wasn't just Chloe's step-dad who planted it there, or that the perp didn't just steal someone's phone, an IP address won't tell you jack shit. The companies that map IPs are only accurate to about a city block, and that's if it's even been mapped at all. A Device ID will get you closer, but without a corresponding database to tell you who the phone is registered to, it's useless."

"Who would have access to that?"

"Aside from the cell phone provider? Pretty much just the cops."

"Or the FBI," muttered Chloe.

"Huh?"

"Nothing. So you're saying it's a dead end?"

Steph shrugged. "Sorry. This kind of technology doesn't work the way it does in movies."

"Okay, explain something to the computer dummy," said Max, clutching her head. "What's an IP address? Or a Device ID?"

"An IP address is a unique set of numbers that a computer or other device uses to connect to the internet," said Warren. "You can trace it to a location, but like Steph said, it's not pinpoint accurate. That's assuming it's not a dynamic or mobile IP, which can change at random. Some mobile IPs change every time the device reconnects."

"A Device ID is registered to the actual mobile device," explained Steph. "On a computer it's called a MAC ID, or Machine ID. Most website and app servers keep track of those things whenever the device in question communicates with them."

"But unless you know who the device belongs to, all you can really tell is how often that particular one accessed it," finished Chloe. "Good to know."

Max nodded, now understanding things a little more clearly. "What are you thinking?"

"I'll tell you later, when we're alone. Now rewind so they don't hear that."

"Huh?" Steph and Warren asked in unison. Max stretched out her hand and reversed time back to the end of the explanation.

"Good to know," Chloe said again.

"Uh yeah, that makes a lot more sense," she said. "Thanks anyway, Steph."

They turned to leave, but Steph called out after them. "Hey, wait!"

Max looked over her shoulder. "What is it?"

"I can still try and get the logs for you, if you really think it'll help," she said. "And… I was wondering if any of you wanted to come over to my place for game night tomorrow. I'm running a one-shot for Mikey and Drew."

"And Eliot?" asked Chloe, eyebrow raised.

Steph shook her head. "He already said he had other plans. Come on, it'll be fun."

"I'd love to come," said Max, smiling. "Warren, I'm sure Brooke would love to play too. You should bring her."

"Uh, yeah. Sure. I don't have anything going on tomorrow night."

"Sounds fun," said Chloe. "But we've got a few other things to take care of. See you around, Steph."

She waved goodbye. "Until we meet again."

* * *

"Do you think we should be getting back to school soon?" asked Kate, setting down her half-drunk cup of coffee. The aftermath of their lunch lay scattered across the table like the ruins of an ancient battlefield, and only crumbs remained. "Victoria and I have class with Mr. Jefferson in like forty-five minutes."

"That's plenty of time," Victoria said. "Besides, I'm in good with Mark. He'll understand if we're a little late."

"You won his little contest, right?" Nathan was sitting across from them, directly in front of the window that looked out over the parking lot. They could see a large RV parked outside, with a black muscle car resting a few spaces over. "San Francisco must've been a blast."

"Believe me, it was," she replied. "Would've been better if I could remember exactly how I got home from that party, though."

"I told you, I made sure you got home safe."

"I know, and thank you for that. But the fact remains that Kate and I still got drugged. I wanna know who the fucking creep is who thinks they can get away with it."

He put his hands over hers protectively. "Me too. I promise, we'll get to the bottom of this."

Kate frowned uncomfortably at the sight, and turned to look over the rest of the diner. She saw a familiar fuchsia hoodie at the central counter, and waved to her friend. "Stella! Hey!"

Stella Hill turned around, blinking with surprise. "Kate?"

"Come here!"

She stood up and walked over to the booth, eyeing Nathan warily. "Uh, hey guys. What's up?"

"We're just getting some lunch before class," said Kate. "You should join us."

"Looks like I already missed that train," she replied, staring over the empty dishes. "I was just getting some quick coffee." She tilted her head to the side. "You guys hear what happened with Rachel this morning?"

"How could we not?" asked Victoria. "It's all over the internet by now. Always thought she seemed a little too perfect. Guess this answers why she has so many friends."

"I don't know," said Kate, looking down at the table. "It's all kinda hard to believe."

"You're telling me." Stella crossed her arms, still standing at the edge of the table. "Most of the weed trade runs through the guy who owns that RV," she said, motioning out the window with her head. "No one I know ever mentioned buying it from Rachel."

"She hung out with him a lot, though," said Nathan. "Her and that punk slut Chloe Price. It's not even the first time she got accused of bringing drugs on campus."

Victoria squinted hard at him. "How the hell do you know that?"

He shrugged. "My dad practically owns Blackwell. You think anything happens there that I don't know about?"

"All I know is, it's not gonna look good for her dad," said Stella. "You know he's up for re-election next month, right? So much for being tough on drugs."

"Since when do you care about politics?" asked Victoria.

"When your scholarship depends on educational policies, you kinda develop an interest," she replied. "Plus my parents are total activists. But I don't see how this is good for anybody. Blackwell can't really weather a scandal like that either. Whatever happens, if Rachel goes down, a lot of people are coming with her."

Kate looked up at her, a morose expression on her face. "I hope it doesn't come to that."

"Me either, girlfriend."

"You sure you don't want to hang out?"

"Thanks for the offer, but I gotta jet. Bus will be here soon and I don't wanna be late for class. Be seeing you."

She turned and left, and Kate waved meekly after her.

"All I know is Rachel spent way too much time with that fucking delinquent," Victoria practically snarled. "She could be friends with anybody, and she chooses the chick who burned out of school and who'll probably end up flipping burgers in this fucking place if she doesn't overdose on heroin first."

"Rachel _is_ friends with everybody," said Nathan. "But like you said, now we know why."

"She's such a fucking lesbo too. Both of them. She's just stringing poor little Chloe along, and little-miss-daddy-issues is so in love with her she doesn't even care. Now she's got Max under her spell too. God, I'm so sick of hearing people sing her fucking praises. Maybe now they'll stop."

Kate glared hard at both of them, slamming her hands down on the table. "I don't believe you two! Isn't she your friend? Why would you say something so mean?"

To her credit, Victoria had the good sense to appear mortified. "Uh… sorry, Kate. I don't mean to be such a bitch. It's just…"

"Is _anything_ you said to me real? How do I know you're not gonna start talking shit about me the moment I'm not around?"

"Kate, I would never…"

"You already _did_! And I forgave you for that! But you shouldn't say things like that about your friends just so you can feel better about your own insecurities!" She stood up, and by this point half the diner had turned to stare at the display. "You have no idea what I was going through before Rachel reached out to me! You have no idea what I was planning to do!"

Victoria tried to speak, but no words came out. Nathan sat there staring, quiet as a stone.

"Thanks for lunch, Victoria. But I think I'll find my own way back to class."

She stomped out of the diner, and Victoria leaped out of the booth, calling after her.

"Kate, don't go!"

But Kate didn't listen to her.

* * *

Rachel hated being popular. Ever since the events of the morning, her phone had blown up to the point where she considered just chucking it into the ocean. The texts she received were worded supportively, but they were hollow and performative. In other words, fake. Just like everything else in her life.

What she wouldn't give to just be nobody. At least then people would tell her how they really felt. Or better yet, they wouldn't talk to her at all.

But she needed to keep the phone with her in case Chloe or Max called. They were the only real anchors in her life; the only people she could trust not to put on an act around her. When half the school worshipped her like a goddess, people like that were in short supply.

She was lying down on her bed, staring up at the ceiling, where the stars issued forth from the night light that Chloe modified three years ago to show her there was still a brighter world out there. Her eyes were dry this time, and she gazed vacantly upward, lying there in a trance.

' _How many more secrets are you keeping from me, Rachel?_ '

Chloe was right to ask her that. Lying was, as she'd said on the train all those years ago, something that Rachel was used to. It was like a disease, passed down to her by a man who built his entire life on falsehoods, who kept the truth from her out of some misguided desire to protect her from the fact that her whole identity rested on a foundation of mud, that washed away in the storm. But she couldn't stop herself from doing the same.

But would either of them look at her the same if they knew? Was she not entitled to a little privacy? It wasn't like she'd told Chloe things that were untrue. She just hadn't brought up several things that were. Was it still a lie of omission when the other party wasn't entitled to know those things to begin with?

Or, despite her efforts to the contrary, had she become her father's daughter after all?

A short snippet of whatever dumb pop song she'd set Chloe's ring tone to trilled loudly beside her, and she rolled over to retrieve her phone. After navigating through seventeen other alerts, she found the message from Chloe.

 _'Meeting with Steph was a bust. I got lost in all the techie talk but Frank's our best lead right now. You got the money?_ '

Sighing, she responded.

' _Not yet. Been sitting here feeling sorry for myself. I'll see if I can set up a meeting with him, though._ '

She navigated through the messaging app looking for the last conversation she'd had with Frank, before remembering that she'd deleted it. She started composing a new message.

' _Hey. It's me. I have the money. Meet up?_ '

Her thumb hovered over the 'send' button, and she stared at the phone screen for a few minutes, during which time she received four additional texts from her adoring public. Her frown grew deeper, and she held down the backspace button until there remained only a blinking cursor, waiting for her input.

She hit the power button on the phone, then hurled it across the room.

* * *

"What did she say?" asked Max after Chloe sent off the text.

"She says she'll see about setting up a meeting with Frank. Fine by me. I'd rather not talk with him at all, but he's our best lead right now."

"How do you even know this guy?" asked Warren, who was still walking with them through the parking lot.

"Gotta get my drugs from somewhere, dude."

"Yeah, but it sounds like there's more to the story. I just want to help."

"Do you have three thousand dollars?"

He blinked. "Uh…"

"Then you can't help."

"Chloe," Max chided, placing a hand against her shoulder. "You don't have to shut him out. What's the point in letting him tag along if we're just gonna keep everything from him?"

"Fine. You wanna know so bad? Rachel and I need to pay off the money we borrowed from him, plus six months interest. She's got the cash hidden away, and we've got until Thursday. Then we have to hope he's in a good enough mood to tell us who he sold the drugs to instead of siccing his mangy mutt on us."

"Holy shit."

"He's honestly not that scary," Max reassured him. "At least when he's been paid."

Warren raised an eyebrow. "How do _you_ know him? I didn't think you did drugs."

"I don't. I only met him because of Chloe."

"Yeah, but she just said she borrowed that money six months ago. You weren't even here then."

She stared at him, wide-eyed. "Uh…"

Chloe rolled her eyes. "God, you're practically twins. I'm more worried about Eliot being back in town. He probably has something to do with what happened to Rachel. He fucking hates her."

"What do you mean? I never really kept in touch with him."

"You're good at that. Basically after you left Eliot and I went to a few concerts together. We did it once, but it was kinda boring and eventually we just stopped hanging out. When Rachel got stabbed she had me break into her dad's office to find files on Sera, and Eliot fucking followed me there. He started acting like a crazy stalker and I had to lead him on while I was secretly calling the cops."

"Whoa," said Warren. "I never knew your life was so exciting."

She groaned. "Max, can you just rewind so he doesn't hear any of that?"

Max squinted at her, tilting her head. "Maybe I shouldn't."

"Come again now?"

"So much of what went wrong in the last few timelines was because we didn't trust other people. He'll believe us. I trust him."

Warren stared at them, bewildered. "Believe what?"

She stopped walking, and regarded him seriously. "Okay, Warren. What I'm about to tell you needs to stay between us. No telling Brooke, or anybody else unless I say so. Agreed?"

"I… guess so. What's this about?"

"Max, we do not fucking have time for this."

"Sure we do. It's my power; I get to decide who I tell. I already told him once in another timeline and he believed me then."

"Fine. But we're walking and talking. I wanna catch up to Eliot and find out what the fuck he's really doing in town."

They started moving towards Chloe's truck again, and she surged forward several paces while the two of them lagged behind.

"I'm seriously confused," said Warren. "Just tell me already."

"Okay then." She took a deep breath. "I have the power to rewind time."


	17. The Doctor Is In

**Chapter Seventeen**  
The Doctor Is In

"So let me get this straight," said Warren after they'd been on the road for roughly fifteen minutes. "After surviving a tornado, you went to Seattle, grabbed a selfie from six months ago, called Chloe, and saved Rachel Amber from getting killed? You _are_ Super Max."

"Hey, that's my name for her. Get your own."

Max was sitting in the middle of them, with Chloe driving and Warren sitting in the passenger's seat of her truck. She was small enough that it wasn't _too_ awkward, but she could feel the animosity radiating from her girlfriend. She rolled her eyes.

"Chloe, here's all the nicknames you've given me that I can remember off the top of my head." She took a deep breath and began counting on her fingers. "Bat-Max, Maximus, Moral Max, Max the Quiet Wallflower, Hippie, The Amazing SpiderMax, and Max Caulfield: Time Warrior."

"What's your point?"

"My point is you can't patent troll your way into being the only one allowed to nickname me."

"Patent troll? What kinda classes are you taking?"

Warren leaned forward so he could see past Max. "It's when a company's entire business model relies on filing patents for basic concepts that they know someone will use eventually, then suing the shit out of whoever does."

"Yeah, I fucking knew that, man. I want to know where _she_ learned it."

"It doesn't matter anyway," said Max. "Warren's my friend, Chloe. And as you can clearly see, he believes us about the time travel. There's nothing to worry about."

"I'm not worried," she said, unconvincingly. "Just don't see what bringing yet another person into our little club is gonna accomplish."

"The more heads the better, right?"

"More like too many cooks spoil the dish."

"Aside from you and Rachel, he's the only one who knows," she said. "And he knows enough science that he can probably help us figure out some of the weirder parts."

"No amount of science that I know is gonna explain any of that," Warren replied. "Chloe's onto something with this parallel dimension theory, but I don't see how Rachel being tied to the land can be scientifically explained—not by a high school student, at any rate."

Chloe chuckled darkly. "If she were here she'd say that one Shakespeare quote about there being more things in heaven and earth than anyone could ever imagine."

"There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy," he recited. "It's from _Hamlet_."

"Whatever."

"You're right, though: just because we can't explain something doesn't mean it's not real. Did you know there's an entire field of science dedicated to studying why your headphones get tangled in your pockets? We still have no clue. It has something to do with quantum states."

"Is _that_ what string theory is?" asked Max.

Chloe and Warren both glanced sideways at her.

"I'm kidding."

"Anyway, it doesn't really matter _how_ Max got her powers so much as what she's able to do with them," he said. "Have you figured out the boundaries for them at least?"

"If I start to overuse them, my nose bleeds," she answered. "And they can run out temporarily, so they must need some sort of fuel. In the other timeline I saw Kate jump off a roof, and I was able to freeze time entirely for a minute while I made my way up there. But then I couldn't use them at all."

"Wait, you _paused_ time? You said you could only rewind it."

"I can also fast forward moments that I've already lived through," she clarified. "But I still have no idea how I managed to do it. I just rewound to the same moment so many times I guess it stayed there until my energy ran out."

"That sounds like it could come in handy," he said. "You should see if you can do it again."

"Maybe later. It really took a lot out of me when I did it. These powers aren't something I should be playing around with."

"Still, the geek has a point," said Chloe. "You really should figure out the full extent of what you're able to do with them."

"Besides, there's nothing wrong with a little exercise," he added. "You're able to do a lot more with them now than when you first got them, right?"

She nodded, hunching her shoulders forward as she settled between the two of them.

"There's something else I'm still wondering about," he said. "All this stuff with the Prescotts, the Black Elks, Eliot being back in town… do you remember any of that going on in that first timeline?"

"We were too focused on finding Rachel to notice much of anything else," said Max. "Are you saying her being alive caused all this other conspiracy bullshit?"

"It's a basic law of the universe. Every action has an equal and opposite reaction. And when you change something important enough, it causes a chain reaction. Maybe some of this stuff was going on in the background in the other timeline, but it didn't fall into this particular arrangement until you changed something significant enough to do that."

"Like chaos theory."

"Exactly."

"I don't care how or why all this happened," said Chloe. "I just want to get Rachel out of this fucking mess. That means we need to see Frank, find out who bought the drugs, and who had access to her locker. And what the hell Eliot's doing back in town."

"Do we even know where he was going?" asked Max.

"Well we've been driving around town for twenty minutes now," she said. "He can't hide from us much longer."

"I say we give it a day, find out where he's staying, and stake him out later. If he really is up to no good, he'll probably have his guard down if we don't try to follow him right after we just saw him."

"Good point. Guess I'll drop you two back off at Blackwell, then."

"And where will you be going?"

"Home. I gotta change out of these clothes at some point, and I might be able to dig through step-douche's files."

Max nodded. "We'll talk to some of the other students, see if we can dig up any leads. When are we meeting Frank?"

"Good fucking question. Rachel hasn't texted back yet." She looked at Warren. "Look dude, I know Max made you part of our little Scooby gang, but you should probably sit that one out."

"Oh don't worry. I try and avoid shady drug dealers in general. But Steph should have the server logs by tomorrow night. We can get them from her and follow that lead."

"But I thought that was a dead end," said Max. "Steph told us the information would be useless without the right technology."

Chloe held up a small business card that she'd obtained earlier that morning. "Then it's a good thing I know where to find it."

"You can't be serious. You hate the cops."

"First off, these are the feds, not the cops. Two, turns out the shit they told me about Rachel is mostly true, so they think they have leverage over me. All I have to do is say I'll accept their offer if they do me a favor, and boom. We can have them trace where the login came from."

"But you're not actually going to do what they're asking, right? Even setting aside how upset Rachel would be, if Samantha Black Elk finds out…"

"She won't. I know what I'm doing, Max."

"Are you sure about that? I don't know how many more times I can keep saving you before reality comes undone again."

"I'm just gonna let them think I'm down with it long enough to get them to do me that favor, then I'll peace out. It's easy."

"You can't just play the FBI like that," said Warren. "CIs usually have deals attached, and with all the suspicion that's been piled on Rachel already they could easily put both of you in prison if you tell them you're gonna cooperate and then suddenly change your mind."

"I don't need advice from either of you on this," she said. "I'm willing to take any risk if there's a chance it can help Rachel."

"But that's not just a risk," said Max. "It's a stupid fucking plan. The only way that ends is with all of us either dead or in jail."

"Then what do you suggest?"

"That we take this one step at a time. We have to be careful."

Chloe rolled her eyes. "Fine. We'll do it your way, Max. But being careful doesn't always mean you're safe. It just means you're not willing to do what it takes."

"Chloe…"

"It's cool." By this time they had reached Blackwell, and Chloe brought the truck to a stop along the sidewalk in front of the main steps. "I'll see you nerds later."

"Bye," said Warren, already hopping out.

"I'll text you if we learn anything," Max said before leaning over to kiss Chloe on the cheek. "Don't get into any trouble without me, okay?"

She grinned. "No promises."

* * *

Mikey North wasn't quite sure why they had driven out of the town proper and into the surrounding forest, where the scars from the fire three years ago were barely starting to heal. A single highway carved through the burnt surroundings like a long and winding snake, ferrying them deeper into the more rural parts of Arcadia Bay.

While predominantly known a fishing town, Arcadia Bay had a few ranches and farms further inland, most of which had faded into obscurity as more and more of the local economy grew to revolve around the Prescotts. Their father's job on the docks had been swallowed up by that vortex, and Mikey wasn't the only one to notice that it wasn't just businesses that were dying.

All of which made it incredibly odd that there was an auto repair shop, miles from anything even resembling civilization, where Eliot decided to stop.

"What are we doing here?"

"Drew and I got business to take care of," said Eliot. "You can stay in the car if you want."

He huffed and clambered out of the vehicle, followed quickly by Drew and Eliot. He didn't really know Eliot aside from him and Drew vaguely being friends, but the two of them had come back into town around the same time, and he was happy to see his brother no matter the circumstances. Still, something about Eliot made him uneasy. He couldn't quite put his finger on it.

The sign read "Discount Auto Repair," and from here Mikey could see a large garage with a sheet metal exterior whose paint had long ago decayed and given way to large patches of rust. To their left, slightly ahead, was an exterior office, with large windows and a desk inside, surrounded by filing cabinets and an ocean of stray papers. A man emerged from said office, wearing coveralls with a patch on his chest that read "Clayton."

"Good to see you boys," the man said, looking between Drew and Eliot but utterly ignoring Mikey. "Let's go in my office, you can give me an update."

"Sure thing," said Eliot.

"I'll wait out here," said Drew, stuffing his hands inside the pockets of his letterman jacket. "Keep Mikey company. You can catch me up to speed later."

The other boy nodded, and the two of them disappeared into the office. Mikey turned to his brother. "Who is this guy?"

"Clayton Bradshaw. He and dad went to Blackwell together, back in the day. He was the star quarterback, dad was a wide receiver. Then I guess he settled down and opened this shop."

"So what are we doing here, then?"

He shrugged. "Like Eliot said, we've got business with him. He helped dad out three years ago, and he helped me too. Now he needs a favor, and I happen to be in town."

"What about Eliot, though? How does he know him?"

Drew placed a hand on his shoulder. "Trust me, Mikey. There are some things you're better off not knowing."

"You sure about that? Because I sure could have done with knowing you were dealing drugs for a guy who ended up breaking your leg."

"This isn't like that. Bradshaw's cool."

"If you say so. Why are we waiting out here?"

"Like I said, this isn't something you want to get involved in. Promise me you'll keep this to yourself. No matter who comes asking, got it?"

He scowled and turned away. "Sure, big brother. Whatever you say."

* * *

"So uh… what's next?" Warren asked as they traversed the main courtyard. "There's not much else we can deduce from the evidence we have. We need more clues."

"I guess I could go to class," said Max, pulling out her phone to check the time. "I've only missed like, twenty minutes of a Jefferson lecture."

"Brooke told me you ran out of his class yesterday with a bloody nose, then you didn't get back until like eleven at night. What really happened?"

"I thought I told you while I was spilling everything else. I had another vision of the tornado, then I travelled to a weird nightmare dimension that has something to do with all the paranormal shit that's been happening in Arcadia Bay."

"Oh yeah, you did tell me that. It's a lot to take in."

"You're telling me."

"What really happened to Rachel in the other timeline? Before you saved her, I mean. You kinda skipped over that part."

Max clutched her temples and shook her head. "It's not a story I want to get into right now. It's sick and depressing and that's the last fucking thing I need right now."

"That's fair enough."

"By the way, did you get any calls from Brooke this morning, before you met up with her?"

He peered at her strangely, craning his neck back. "Just a text. Why do you ask?"

"I heard her talking to someone on the phone while I was in the shower. She was talking about taking care of something, and she said: 'she'll never see it coming.' I just wondered if you knew anything about that."

"Are you saying she had something to do with what happened to Rachel?"

"I would be if she wasn't the one who gave me a heads up about it. Honestly for a minute I thought she was arranging some sort of prank on me."

"Why would you think that?"

An exasperated groan escaped her. "Come on Warren, you can't be this dense. You've had the biggest crush on me ever since I got to this school, and Brooke's been super jealous about it. She thinks she needs to compete with me for some reason."

He quickly became flustered, and a blush flooded his cheeks. "I never had a—"

"It's okay, Warren. It's actually kind of flattering that you'd be interested in me. But things just didn't work out that way."

"Well yeah, I can see why you chose Chloe over me. You've got more history, and she's way hotter. Plus I'm not sure I'd have that much of a chance with you even if you were into dudes."

She chuckled. "It's not like that. Honestly, I'm into both. Guys and girls. In another world, things could have turned out differently. But you're right: Chloe and I were meant for each other. I literally broke time for her."

"Is this why you've been trying to push me together with Brooke?"

"Was it that obvious?"

Warren cracked a smile. "It's not like I haven't noticed her taking an interest in me," he admitted. "But I don't know. I don't really that way about her. We're just science buddies."

"You should tell her that," said Max. "It'll hurt less if she learns the truth now instead of after making a fool of herself."

"What do you mean by that?"

A sheepish smile appeared on her face, and she hunched her shoulders forward. "I… may have encouraged her to tell you how she really feels."

"Do you think she will?"

"Honestly, it's hard to say. I don't know her too well. All I know is it might make game night awkward if you don't feel the same way she does."

He shrugged. "We're still friends. I should at least let her down easy."

"And I probably shouldn't get any more involved than I already have. Sorry for meddling."

"It's okay. It was probably gonna come up at some point. Like you said, it's better if she finds out sooner than later."

Max frowned. "She's probably gonna hate me for it. But I guess I deserve that."

"Your heart was in the right place," he said as they finally came upon the dorms. "Plus if things get too bad you can always go back in time and make it so this never happened."

She shook her head. "I'm not gonna do that. I should be using these powers for stuff that matters, not making myself more popular by saying all the things people want to hear. Besides, I'm glad we had this conversation. It's nice to finally have it all out in the open."

"Yeah," he replied, smiling. "I am too."

* * *

Sparing the occasional glance at her rear view mirror just to make sure there were no surprises this time, Chloe coasted down the highway leading back to her home, her mind in a state somewhere between numbness and serenity.

The last week of her life had been a nonstop avalanche of crazy shit that she couldn't escape from no matter how hard she tried. The last time she'd felt so adrift was when Rachel first entered her life. It somehow made perfect sense that Max coming back into it would have the same effect.

At times like this, all Chloe wanted to do was sit back on her bed and smoke until she didn't have to think anymore. Until nothing mattered.

"But of course even I couldn't come up with all this shit if I was on all the drugs in the world," she said, making her monologue external. "Will this ever fucking end?"

"Nothing ever ends, sweetheart," her father said from the seat next to her, as though he had always been there. She didn't even have the energy to act surprised. "But in time, this will either pass, or you'll just get used to it."

"So we're doing the thing where I go crazy again," she said in perfect deadpan. "Awesome."

"You're not crazy," William assured her. "Crazy is what we call something that we don't want to understand. Because if we took the time to examine it, we'd see it makes entirely too much sense."

"Whatever. Did I fall asleep and crash? Am I dead right now?"

"I don't think so," he replied. "Besides, the last time you saw me, you weren't dreaming." He gazed toward her, a gentle smile curling upwards. "What's bothering you, honey?"

"Like you don't already know?" She smacked the steering wheel with both hands. "I thought Max coming back into my life would give me back some sense of what I had before, but everything that's happened since then has been completely fucking insane. The one good thing that's come out of all this is that Rachel's finally into me again, and now I get to have both of them. I should be fucking stoked."

"So why aren't you?"

"Because it's like they don't even need me! Max has totally awesome time travel powers, Rachel's so connected to nature that the environment would literally die without her, but what about me? The most I can do is drive them around, or talk to my dead dad! How the fuck is that useful?"

"That depends. Is being useful something that affects your relationship with them?"

She paused for a long time before answering, staring out ahead at the road. "If you asked them I think they'd say no. But I feel like I'm not actually contributing anything other than a few swear words and a bad attitude. And now I've got the FBI breathing down my neck."

"You don't have to be useful to be important," he said patiently. "Your moment will come. If not now, then later."

Chloe nodded solemnly and absorbed that, waiting for the ghost of her father to leave. But he persisted.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Of course."

"Max said she saw you when she went to the Dead Side of Forever," she elaborated. "She thinks I'm somehow connected to that place. Is that how I'm able to talk to you?"

"I suppose," said William. "I'm not quite sure myself."

"Are you even really my father? Or just some weird, made-up memory of him, scavenged from my subconscious?"

"What difference does it make? I'm here, aren't I?"

She chuckled darkly. "That _is_ the difference. You're either him or you're just what I wish he'd been."

"I don't have the answer for you, Chloe. That's something you have to figure out for yourself."

"Figured as much. You just gonna sit there all day?"

She glanced towards him, but he was gone.


	18. I'll Be Your Number One with a Bullet

**Chapter Eighteen  
** I'll Be Your Number One with a Bullet

"Kate?" Victoria smacked her palm repeatedly against the closed door. "Kate come on, open up! I know you're in there!"

There was no response.

"Look, I'm sorry, okay? I mean it! Just don't make me shout it through the door!"

When she had finally made it to Mr. Jefferson's class, Kate wasn't there. Neither was Max. After getting Courtney and Taylor to ask around, she'd finally learned that Kate had simply gone back to her dorm the moment she arrived on campus. It should have been obvious, but Victoria didn't know her all that well.

Why was she getting so hung up on this anyway? Why did Kate's opinion matter to her so much? Or was it just that she'd been made to look like an absolute fool in a public space again? Whatever the reason, she remained just outside Kate's door, begging her to answer.

"Kate!"

"If she hasn't answered by now, she's not going to."

Her hand froze halfway to the door, and she turned around slowly. Max Caulfield was standing there, arms crossed, head quirked to the side. The look on her face was one she'd never have expected from the quiet, nerdy wallflower who'd arrived at Blackwell a month prior. Something about her had changed in the last week. Something she couldn't identify, but was definitely… weird.

"Oh. Hey, Max. Good to see you got back to campus safe. Even if you did totally skip class again."

Max shrugged. "Had something important come up. Why are you hassling Kate?"

"I'm not—" She lowered her voice back down again. "I'm not hassling her. I'm _trying_ to apologize for something I said earlier that set her off. But she won't even answer me."

"What did you say?"

Cringing, she forced the words to come out. "I might have talked a little shit about Rachel Amber. But… it was totally a joke! We kid around about each other all the time!"

"I'm sure. So why'd Kate run off?"

"Because she's worried I'd say something like that behind _her_ back, even though I totally never would after I apologized for everything else I did to her. I dunno, she got really upset about what I said about Rachel. She told me I had no idea what she was planning to do before you and Rachel reached out to her. Do you know what she meant by that?"

Max gasped, then lowered her head into her palm. "Oh fuck."

"What?"

"Kate!" Now Max began pounding on her door. "Kate, are you okay? It's me, Max!"

Victoria leaned back. "Uh, what's going on, Max? Are you okay?"

Slamming her fist against the door, Max whirled to face her with fury behind her eyes. "Think, Victoria! Kate got drugged and had a video posted online of her acting crazy, then the whole fucking school bullied her for over a week! Her family wasn't any help, and all she wanted to do was escape! What do you _think_ she meant?

It all fit together like a horrible jigsaw puzzle, and Victoria had to lean against a wall to keep from toppling over. "Oh Christ. Do you think she…"

"She better not have, for your sake. Kate!"

They heard a click behind the door, and the door opened slowly to reveal that Kate Marsh was alive and well, if a little red around the eyes.

"Hey Max," she said tonelessly. "I appreciate you being worried about me. But I'd rather be left alone right now."

"Kate, hold on." Victoria moved into the doorway, and Max moved to accommodate her. "I really am sorry. For what I said earlier. I had no idea how important Rachel was to you."

Kate glared, folding her arms over her chest. "Do you really think that's why I got upset? Because of what Rachel means to _me_?"

Her eyelids fluttered, and she leaned back, stunned. "What other reason is there?"

"I'm not in the habit of lecturing people," she said. "But it's important for you to understand why I made a scene. You told me and Max this morning that you've been friends with Rachel for years, but it's like you were just waiting for an excuse to tear her apart over something that's not even her fault. Did you ever actually like her, or did you just hang out because you're both popular?"

"Hey, just because I get a little jealous sometimes doesn't mean I don't care about her," Victoria insisted. "And I'm sorry if what I said upset you. I was a major bitch. Again."

Kate sighed. "You still don't get it. This isn't about me. You said horrible things about Rachel because what? People like her better than you? Do you talk about everyone like that when they're not around?"

"I know I shouldn't," she replied, frowning. "But sometimes I can't help it."

"Then you should try harder. Rachel's an amazing person, even aside from everything she did for me. Apologizing to me isn't enough, and it's not the point. I don't know why you're so jealous of someone who's never been anything but kind and supportive to everyone she meets."

"Well it's not like she's perfect," said Victoria, now on the defensive. "Even if those drugs weren't hers, I know for a fact she smokes that shit. I'm just tired of everyone seeing her as little miss perfect who can do no wrong, while people like me have to meet an impossible standard, and still get called a bitch for it."

"She's tired of it too," said Max. "I talked to her this morning and she doesn't think it's fair that she's barely getting any punishment for it. Wells doesn't want to risk the whole school getting buried in a scandal."

Kate looked thoughtful for a moment. "Her dad probably doesn't want it affecting his re-election, either. That's what Stella said in the diner earlier, anyway."

"Why would Stella know that?"

"Something about her scholarship being affected by shit like this," said Victoria. "But it doesn't take a poli sci major to know that if Rachel goes down, a lot of people are coming with her. Wonder if that was the point."

The two of them stared at her.

"What do you mean?"

"Think about it. Assuming someone did frame her, they obviously took into account what would happen next. The only reason they'd go ahead with it is if they _wanted_ that to happen. Maybe this whole thing isn't really about her at all."

"You mean either the school or her dad are the real target?" Max stroked her chin and glanced off to the side. "But why?"

"Maybe we shouldn't do this in the hall," said Kate, arms still crossed. Max nodded.

"I have a conspiracy wall set up in my room," she said, pointing over her shoulder with her thumb. "You girls want to see?"

Victoria shrugged. "Okay, I'm curious." She turned to Kate. "But… are we cool? Again, I'm really sorry."

"I forgive you," said Kate. "But you should apologize to Rachel too. Not just for what you said, but for talking shit behind her back for years while claiming to be her friend. She doesn't deserve that."

She nodded somberly. "I know. I'll talk to her about it next chance I get. Which, given she's suspended, might be a while."

For the first time in the whole conversation, Kate cracked a slight smile and laughed.

"Come on," said Max. "We have a mystery to solve."

* * *

Prying open the window, Chloe clambered into her bedroom, which she hadn't occupied since the previous morning. This whole morning felt like a week, and she collapsed on her bed face first, soaking in the tranquility of her place of refuge.

After a few minutes, she convinced herself to stand up again. There was investigating to be done, and little time to do it in before her mom or step-douche got home. She stopped long enough to change her clothes, trading in Monday's garments for her classic skull shirt/beanie/leather jacket combo, and squeezed into a fresh pair of jeans. She had already showered that morning, a memory that still caused her to quiver excitedly. She shook her head to get herself back in detective mode.

A quick jaunt down the stairs later, she confirmed that the coast was clear, creeping past the living room and into the garage. Planting her hands on her hips, she surveyed the space before her.

David's tools took up just about every available surface, but his car was thankfully absent. His computer rested on the workbench in front of her, but was unfortunately locked. Sauntering over to the left, she flicked the switch on the gun rack, which lit up to reveal a small arsenal that a high school security guard _definitely_ didn't need. She chuckled.

"Maybe I should start packing."

She shook her head after giving it another moment's thought. What use would a gun be when she had a friend who could rewind time? The case went dark again and she resumed her hunt. Searching through the cabinets revealed canned food and more tools, but no mysterious files.

Her phone started to ring. Chloe smirked when she saw the caller ID. She swiped to answer, then put it on speaker, holding her phone out in front of her.

"Hey, Rach. You set up that meeting with Frank yet?"

"Uh, not really. He won't budge. Says he can't meet 'til Thursday."

"And here I thought he'd want his money ASAP." She wandered deeper into the garage, towards a row of lockers that David normally secured with a padlock, but which was fortuitously open. "So why are you calling? Could've just texted me that."

"I don't know. I'm starting to go a little crazy just sitting in my room, but I don't feel like going anywhere."

"Want me to come over?"

"Not right now. I just wanted to hear the sound of your voice."

Chloe grinned stupidly. "You're so cute."

"Not as cute as you."

"Stop it, you're making me blush." She jerked the locker open, retrieving a couple of folders. "Hey, you mind helping me out with something?"

"Sure. What's up?"

"I'm going through step-douche's files and I might need you to google a few things. Can you get on your computer?"

"Sure thing." There was shuffling in the background, and she heard a chair being pulled out. "Alright. We are online."

"Great." She strode back over to the workbench, first setting down the folder, then her phone. "Okay, let's see what we got. Blueprint for Pan Estates, with camera locations. Page of coordinates for… wait, is that _my_ truck? Did that fucker lo-jack me?"

"That's a whole new level of creepy."

"It's not just me. He's got Nathan's license plate too, plus a couple others I don't recognize. I don't see yours anywhere."

"Well that's a relief."

"Only other thing he's got here is a few photos of you and Frank hanging out, and some car repair bill. Who pays a thousand dollars for an oil change? He knows how to do that himself."

"Could be some kind of insurance fraud."

"Come again?"

"Basically you get the repair place to overcharge you for a basic service, then the insurance company sends you a refund check. That or it's money laundering."

"You learn that from your dad?"

"One of my career goals _is_ International Law. I've read up on this stuff."

"It's not in step-douche's name, though. Not in anybody's name, actually. It just says the name of the place, along with the address."

"Read it off to me and I'll look it up."

She did so, and after a few keystrokes Rachel had the answer for her. "Okay, get this: it's out by the old mill."

"Seriously?"

"Seriously. Give or take a few miles. Not sure how this place even stays in business all the way out there."

"Must be why they overcharge."

Rachel laughed.

"Hey, are you holding up okay? I know this morning's been rough for you."

There was a long pause. "I don't know. Everything's been so fucking weird since Friday. All this supernatural shit, the stuff with Jefferson, plus whatever this conspiracy is… it's easier to get through with you and Max by my side."

"Same. Life hasn't been this crazy since we first met."

"In a way, I kind of like it," she said, her voice emitting from the speaker. "The three years in between then and now… it felt like we were in a holding pattern, just waiting for something to happen. I don't think I've ever felt more alive than when I'm right in the thick of it with you."

Chloe chuckled. "That's just 'cause you're a drama queen."

"You're goddamn right. Deal with it, Price."

"If you were here right now I'd punch you in the arm."

She heard a long string of laughter from Rachel. "I guess you owe me one."

"Guess so." She pawed through the papers again. "Hey Rachel?"

"Hey what?"

"I was just thinking. Whoever did this must've known about you working with Frank. Someone who was probably pissed that you cut off contact six months ago."

"We've been over this. It couldn't have been Frank."

"I'm not talking about him."

"Sam? Don't be ridiculous. She already told me there's no hard feelings over that. Besides, you don't know her like I do. This sort of thing isn't her style."

"I don't know. I've just gotten a bad vibe off of her ever since you introduced us."

"Be that as it may, I know she didn't do this. She'd have no reason to."

"If you say so. I think I've found everything I'm gonna find here. Let's meet up tomorrow and go over our next move."

"Oh by the way, my mom went to the Two Whales this morning."

Chloe stood up straight, staggering back across the floor. "Oh shit."

"Right? I don't know how much she told your mom, but apparently our parents are all having dinner tomorrow night."

"That is like my third worst nightmare." She swung her arms back and forth, puffing her cheeks up and breathing out slowly. "No way in hell are we going to that."

"It's like you read my mind. Can't imagine it's just a coincidence, though. Them arranging a dinner after barely interacting for three years."

"You think they know already?"

"If they do, at least my mom only knows about you and me."

"Max's classmates only know about me and her," said Chloe. "God, this is gonna be hard to keep straight."

"Oh, keeping it straight was a lost cause from the start."

"Ha ha, you know what I meant."

"Once we leave Arcadia Bay, we won't need to hide it anymore. We just need to stay strong and get through this."

"Yeah, well until then…" She trailed off as the garage door started to open. "Shit. Step-douche is home. Talk to you later."

"Bye."

She swiped the screen to end the call, then bolted back into the living room.

* * *

"Okay, so here's what I don't get," said Max, staring at the conspiracy wall. Kate and Victoria sat on the couch behind her, and Warren had joined them as well in the intervening minutes. Brooke had yet to arrive, and Chloe wasn't coming. Neither was Rachel. "If Blackwell has a zero tolerance policy for drugs anyway, why plant such a ludicrous amount of pot? That's gotta be worth a crazy amount of money."

"What I don't get is why I'm on that board," said Victoria. "Or Nathan, for that matter. Neither of us would do something like that."

"You _did_ talk major shit about Rachel at the diner, and you've always been super jealous of her," said Max. "But you're right. This kind of thing isn't your style. As for Nathan…"

She narrowed her eyes. "What?"

"Let's just say subtlety isn't his thing. The last time Rachel got accused of bringing drugs on campus he didn't bother hiding the fact that he was the one narcing on her."

"He _what_?"

"David accused her too," said Max. "I'm sure he'd be happy to confirm it. Point is, whoever did this wanted us to gravitate towards the usual suspects. It's the _amount_ of weed that clinches it. It narrows the suspect pool down to the people with the cash to pull it off."

"And points the finger in mine and Nathan's direction," said Victoria, crossing her legs. "Clever."

"But how'd they even do it?" asked Warren. "Getting that much pot into the building wouldn't have been easy."

"It's not like there're bag checks or drug sniffing dogs," said Victoria. "Not to mention half the fucking school buys drugs from that Frank Bowers guy. Mr. Madsen's the only security guard who actually gives a shit about doing his job, so all you'd have to do is avoid him and you can put anything you want in someone's locker."

"Sounds like you've really thought this out."

"I'm just saying, it wasn't exactly the crime of the century. And this is all assuming David didn't just put it there himself."

"Where would he get the drugs, though?" asked Kate. "Max is right; whoever pulled this off had deep pockets, or wanted to point the finger at someone who did."

"Which leaves us three possibilities," said Max. "Option one: Frank Bowers. Rachel worked for him until six months ago, and she and Chloe owe him three thousand dollars, plus interest. The only problem with that theory is that he gave them until this Thursday to pay him back."

"Wait, worked for him how?" asked Victoria.

"According to her, she ran messages between him and his supplier because they couldn't be seen together in public. She didn't handle any of the merchandise."

"Probably paid her in it, though."

"The point is, there's a lack of motive. That means Frank was an unwitting party in all this, assuming the drugs came from him and not from somewhere else."

"Her dad's the DA," said Warren. "Maybe somebody got their hands on evidence from a drug bust and planted that."

"A good alternative to consider, especially since Chloe got picked up by the FBI this morning. They tried to use Rachel as leverage to get her to inform on Frank's supplier. But Chloe says that happened _before_ Rachel got busted. They wouldn't have had time to arrange all that in the time between when she left the station and when I called her about it."

"What's option two?" asked Kate.

"Eliot Hampden," she replied, pointing to the photos. "According to Chloe, he was arrested three years ago for sneaking into Rachel's house and got expelled from Blackwell. Then he rolls back into town at exactly the same time that she gets busted with a bunch of pot in her locker."

"There's just one problem with that," said Warren. "He and Drew North were hanging out with Steph Gingrich all morning. He couldn't have been the one to plant it."

"We don't know when it was put there," Max pointed out. "It could have been last night, or even this weekend for all we know. I knew Eliot growing up, but I lost touch with him five years ago just like I did with everybody else in this town."

"All of this is assuming that Rachel was even the real target," said Victoria. "Like I said, the fallout might have been the goal all along. Blackwell's reputation will get shot to hell, and it's timed perfectly to derail her father's re-election campaign. Who benefits from that?"

"Eliot does." Kate stood and walked across the room, leaning over and resting her knee on Max's bed as she moved Eliot's photo to another part of the wall. "Like Max said, he was expelled from Blackwell because he got caught breaking into the DA's house. This allows him to get revenge on both."

"But where would he get the weed?" asked Warren. "So far none of the suspects meet all the criteria, and there's no evidence to suggest any of them are working together. We don't have enough clues."

"Agreed," said Victoria. "Okay Max, let's hear it: what's option three?"

She closed her eyes and bowed her head, taking a deep breath. "You're not gonna like it."

"Try me."

"Sean Prescott." She pointed to another photo on the board. "I took that yesterday when Chloe and I visited Pan Estates. We saw him talking to David Madsen, going over plans for security cameras. He's definitely rich enough, and he has enough connections that he could outsource the job to someone else. But like Warren mentioned, it's not a perfect fit. He's the school's biggest donor, and there's nothing to suggest that he'd want to tamper with the DA's reelection."

"What makes you think he's a suspect in the first place?"

"Because of his connection to David. David thinks Rachel's a bad influence on Chloe, and he's accused her of bringing drugs on campus before, along with Nathan. I didn't want to consider this before, but it wouldn't take much to convince Sean Prescott that she was a bad influence on Nathan too."

She sighed, leaning her forehead against a closed fist. "The only problem is…"

"Neither of them want to see the school go down."

"Exactly."

"So where does that leave us?"

"Right now? We need to gather more intelligence. Chloe and I have Frank covered, and Drew and Mikey North will be at Steph's game night tomorrow, so Warren and I will see what we can learn there. Victoria, I know you don't think Nathan did it, but see if you can get him to tell you anything about what his dad's been up to."

Kate sat down on Max's bed and frowned. "What about me?"

"You're friends with plenty of people I don't know that well," she replied. "Like Stella or Alyssa. We should see if they heard or noticed anything."

"Got it."

"Any other questions?"

There was a general murmuring and shaking of heads.

"Then let's come back to this later. My head is starting to hurt."

They all said their goodbyes and filtered out of the room, and Max collapsed on her bed and stared at the ceiling until she fell asleep.

* * *

As soon as Warren disappeared down the hall, Kate turned to Victoria and eyed her quizzically. "Hey, can I talk to you about something?"

Her hand stopped halfway through turning her doorknob, and she looked back over her shoulder. "Yeah?"

"You could have easily ignored me when I said all that stuff earlier," said Kate. "You could have gotten mad at me or walked away. I wasn't really expecting you to listen."

Quirking her lips to the side, Victoria turned around and crossed her arms. "Why'd you say it, then?"

Kate shrugged. "Because it was the right thing to do. You're not a bad person, Victoria. You just think you need to hurt other people before they have the chance to do the same to you."

"I know." Her palm swallowed her forehead, and her eyes flicked closed for just a moment. "Honestly I've gone most of my life pretending not to give a shit about what other people think of me, even when it feels like it's eating me alive. But I'm trying not to be that person anymore."

She smiled. "And you know something? You're helping me get there."

Kate grinned back at her. "I'm glad. Just promise me you'll keep working at it. I won't always be there to call you out."

"Noted. I'll do my best." She glanced towards her door. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have to finish my homework."

"So do I. And I missed Jefferson's class today, so I'll need to borrow someone's lecture notes."

"You can look at mine if you want. I'm not as meticulous as some, but I like to think I bring my own sense of artistic flair."

Kate's smile broadened. "I'd like that."

The door opened, and they disappeared inside the room.

* * *

"Chloe! Dinner!"

Groaning, Chloe stood up from her computer, where she had been furiously doing research for the last hour or so. Discount Auto Repair had been in business since 1998, and serviced both automobiles and farm equipment. Officially the company belonged to Clayton Bradshaw, a former high school quarterback whose Facebook showed that his passion for sports had not diminished one bit. He had probably peaked in high school and never got over it.

If Chloe were to pursue a career in auto repair, she could do better than this place. But if that bill was in David's files, it might be worth checking out.

"Coming, mom!"

She trudged slowly down the stairs, finding to her dismay that they would be having dinner "as a family." Maybe there was still time to poison David's plate. That might be interesting.

"There you are," said Joyce. "Come on, you can help set the table."

Sliding into the kitchen, Chloe raised an eyebrow. "I thought you said dinner was ready."

"Just about."

Chloe sighed and made herself useful, retrieving the plates and the silverware, setting them around the table. David sat in one of the chairs, reading the newspaper. "You gonna help at any point?"

"David's had a long day," her mother replied. "He's resting."

"Yeah, I heard," she said, glaring at the back of his head. "Apparently you busted a big time drug dealer. That must've really taken a lot out of you."

He barely responded, sending a sneering chuckle in her direction.

"Gotta say though, if I knew Rachel had that much weed I'd never have to buy it from my dealer again. I could've been getting way higher this whole time."

"Chloe!" her mother admonished from the kitchen.

"I'm just saying, this all came as a shock to me." She leaned in closer and stared at him accusingly. "How long did you wait to bust her after you planted it?"

Time seemed to freeze for a moment. She hadn't meant to reveal her hand so early, but like most of the things she said, it escaped her mouth before her brain could catch up. And unlike Max, she couldn't go back. She had no choice but to forge ahead.

He remained absolutely still for a few moments, an icy wave of hatred emanating from him before he calmly folded the newspaper and set it down. "I _discovered_ that marijuana by following an anonymous tip made to the school's security hotline," he insisted. "I treated it the same way I'd handle any accusation."

She finished her circuit of the table, placing the final place on the side closest to the far wall, across from him. "Yeah right, dude. I know for a fact you've accused her before. Nathan has too. When are you guys forming your boy band?"

"Now hold on a minute," said Joyce, moving closer to them with her arms crossed. "What happened with Rachel this morning?"

"Step-fucker here busted her with two pounds of pot in her locker that he probably put there himself," she said, gesturing furiously at him. "Now she's suspended because apparently it's all too believable that it's actually hers."

David stood and leaned forward menacingly, wagging a finger in her direction. "Now you listen here. I will not stand here while you accuse me of this. You have no evidence to back up anything you're saying."

"And you do?" She leaned back, folding her arms over her chest. "I know you think Rachel's a bad influence on me, but believe me, _I'm_ worse. She's not stupid enough to keep that much weed in her goddamn locker. Even if you didn't plant it there, _someone_ did. And I'm gonna find out who."

"So you're playing amateur detective now, huh? Is that why you were going through my files?"

"Better question: why do you have a GPS tracker on my truck? There's pages of coordinates in there detailing everywhere I've been!"

Joyce reeled back, clutching a hand to her chest. "David! Is this true?"

"I…" He hesitated, and the words failed to take shape. Chloe didn't have that problem.

"Oh, it's not just me," she said, circling around the table, behind David. "He's been tracking Nathan Prescott's rich boy ass all over town. And a few other people besides that." She gestured over her shoulder, towards the garage. "Go see for yourself!"

David whirled around and hovered threateningly over her, radiating a special breed of anger. "You have no business going through my files."

"Then lock them up better, man! You'd think a security guard would be better at, you know, security!"

"I don't have to listen to this," he grumbled, starting to push past her. Joyce's hand on his shoulder stopped him in place.

"Calm down, both of you," she ordered. "Now Chloe, David has a point. You can't just go snooping around people's personal files." She turned to David, planting both hands firmly on her hips. "But David, I find it highly disturbing that you'd have these sort of files at all. It's even more concerning that you're tracking Chloe's truck. What possible use could you have for that information?"

Chloe chuckled darkly. "You mean you haven't figured it out by now? He's a paranoid surveillance freak who thinks he still has to gather intelligence just so he can feel important." She glared furiously at him, her eyes boring into him like molten embers. "That's why you're always trying trying to control my life, and why it makes perfect sense that you'd go after my friends!"

He raised his hand over his head, pointing down at her menacingly. "I was a soldier, Chloe!"

"Oh my god, no one gives a fuck anymore!" She raised her elbows over her head and gripped the back of her hair, then let her arms fall again. "You've been using that as an excuse to be an asshole for the last three years! Okay, woo-hoo, you did your part to advance America's imperialist agenda. That doesn't give you the right to bring your war into our house!"

Before her brain could register it, the back of his hand smacked hard against her cheek with enough force to send her to the floor. The room spun as she staggered to her feet, filled with indescribable rage.

"Stop it!" Joyce surged forward, grabbing the side of David's arm. When he looked towards her, Chloe moved in and sucker-punched him in the stomach.

He took it remarkably well, or maybe she just hadn't hit him hard enough. She rushed him again, tackling him against the table. He slipped out of Joyce's grasp, and Chloe's free hand wrapped around the flower pot, which she raised above her head. She swung down hard, but David was faster, and he slid forward onto his knees as the vase smashed into a thousand pieces.

Maybe it was the day she'd had. Maybe it was all the years of living with this asshole, never understanding what her mother saw in him. Or maybe she just couldn't stand this feeling of being lost, angry, and useless anymore. Chloe didn't think so much as _burn_ , a hot cauldron of rage overflowing inside her to the point where all she saw was red.

"Chloe! David! Enough of this! Stop fighting in my house!"

"He started it!" Chloe shouted, rushing towards him with her fist held high above her head. He was ready for her, catching her arm mid-swing and twisting it behind her back, delivering a swift kick to the back of her knee before pinning her to the floor.

"I'm warning you, Chloe! Don't make me hurt you!"

"Like I could make you do anything, you fascist fuck! Get off me!"

"Not until you apologize!"

"Go fuck yourself!"

"I said _enough_!" Joyce grabbed David by the collar and pulled him off of Chloe, then slapped him across the face. "You are _both_ better than this! Look what you've done!" She turned around and gestured to the table, then repeated more softly: "Look what you've done."

Chloe said nothing, bolting for the door. By the time her mother called after her, she already had one foot out.

"Chloe!"

But she was already gone.

* * *

Arcadia Bay didn't have much of a night life. Its citizenry was mostly in bed shortly after dark, with few exceptions. Taking a drag from her cigarette, Samantha Black Elk leaned against a chain link fence, staring through a gap between two buildings that gave her a clear view across the street while obscuring her from anyone who might be looking back. A raven perched on the streetlight above her, watching silently.

After about an hour of watching nothing happen, she finally sensed movement behind her. She didn't turn to acknowledge the other party who stood on the opposite side of the fence, but passed her the cigarette through the links.

"Would it kill you to meet in a normal spot?"

"At this point, you never know." The cigarette was passed back, and she took another drag. "Anything yet?"

"Nope. We know the target, but not the time. Normally I'd delegate this shit to someone else, but honestly I had nothing better to do."

"And you missed me."

"That too. Didn't think you were ever coming back."

"Didn't have much reason to. How's she doing?"

"She's a bit lost, but she's getting closer to the truth. Don't know how much longer I can hide it from her."

"Well with any luck, we can at least delay the inevitable," she said. "At least until the plan moves forward."

Sam chuckled. "She's not gonna be happy when she finds out."

"Well, I tried to give her a happily ever after. Didn't take. I don't expect her to like it. But she'll understand, in time."

"If you say so."

They heard the roar of an engine stampeding down the street, and a familiar tan pickup rocketed past them at dangerous speed. Sam only exhaled a cloud of smoke.

"You see that coming?"

"If I said it's why I suggested this spot would you believe me?"

"Depends on my mood." She took another drag, then passed the cigarette to the figure behind her. "But that's not what we're waiting for."

"Nope. That's coming in three… two…"

Exactly on cue, another vehicle appeared pulling up in front of the building that Sam had spent the last hour observing. Two figures emerged, both wearing ski masks and dark clothing. They disappeared into the building, and a few minutes later, they reappeared holding a single bag. Clambering back inside the car with no particular hurry, they drove off into the night.

"That's the signal," said Sam, turning back to face a thin, blonde, middle-aged woman wearing a baby-blue sundress. "You coming?"

Sera Gearhardt smirked, passing the cigarette back to her through the fence. "You've got this. See you around."

With that, she faded into the darkness, and the raven perched above them took off into the night.

* * *

Max heard a tap against her window, and popped her head up to look. The sun had gone down, but sleep hadn't claimed her yet. Deciding that it was nothing, she resumed staring at the ceiling.

There was another tap. A few seconds later, there was a third. Sighing, she stood up and lumbered over to her window, looking down at the courtyard below. When she identified the source of the disturbance, her eyes rolled so far back into her head she went blind for a second.

Producing her phone, she fired off a quick text to Chloe, whom she saw in the courtyard below.

' _Why are you throwing rocks at my window? If you want to get my attention you can just text me_.'

A few seconds passed, and then she heard a much louder _thunk._ She clambered over her computer desk and opened the window, whisper-shouting into the courtyard. "Did you just throw your _phone_ at my window?"

"No. Football."

"Why?"

Chloe shrugged. "Your dorm's locked. Can you let me in?"

Puffing up her cheeks, Max screamed with her mouth closed. "I'll be right down."

She made the journey downstairs in record time, opening the doors that led into the dorm and ushering Chloe inside. "Why the hell didn't you just text me?"

"Phone's dead," she replied, as if that explained everything. "Besides, the rock throwing was way more romantic, in a punk kinda way."

Max groaned, pushing her down the hall by her shoulders. "Is there a reason you're here?"

"Yep. I'm moving in with you."

She stopped, and Chloe continued walking. "You're _what_?"

"You heard me."

Max resumed walking. They were almost at her room by this point, and Chloe turned the doorknob, disappearing inside. She followed swiftly after, glancing around to make sure there were no prying eyes. "I've heard the old joke about lesbians bringing a U-Haul to the second date, but don't you already have a…"

She trailed off when she saw the bruise on Chloe's cheek.

"What happened?"

"Not important. You should see the other guy."

She crossed her arms. "Would this 'other guy' happen to be head of security at the same school where you're trespassing right now?"

Chloe nodded. "It's the last place he'd think to look."

Her face disappeared into her palms, and Max sat down on her bed. "I do not have the energy for this right now."

"It's cool. I guess I could always just go sleep in the junkyard."

"Don't even joke about that. What happened with David?"

"I went through his files a bit, then I accused him of planting the drugs in Rachel's locker." She frowned. "It… didn't go so well."

Silently, Max stood up and enveloped her in a hug. "I'm so sorry. I feel like shit for telling you to trust him. You shouldn't trust anybody who would do this to you."

"It's fine. Not like he did it for no reason. I was being a major pain. Like always."

She shook her head. "No, Chloe. Don't blame yourself. He's an adult and he should know better. There's nothing you could ever do that would justify him treating you like that."

Chloe smirked. "Thanks, Max. But I don't want to dwell on this. Can I crash here tonight or what?"

"Fine, but try not to wake up everyone on my floor. Every last one of them heard me get back last night."

Striding over to the couch, she collapsed upon it and proceeded to slowly turn liquid as the tension left her body. Her eyes found the conspiracy wall, and a dazed grin spread across her face. "Looks like you made some progress while I was gone."

"I had a brainstorming session with Victoria, Kate, and Warren," she revealed. "We narrowed down the suspect list, but honestly I don't think we're any closer to solving this mystery."

"We've only been at it a day," Chloe pointed out. "You know what they say about Rome."

"It wasn't built in a day, but they were laying bricks every hour," said Max. "And it did burn in one."

"Did you come up with that?"

"No. Both of those are the actual sayings."

"Huh. Guess you really do learn things in school." She swung her legs up onto the couch and reclined back. "Well, goodnight."

Grinning slyly, Max stood and folded her arms over her chest. "Why are you taking the couch, silly? The bed's big enough for both of us."

"Yeah, but you said not to wake the neighbors."

Rolling her eyes, she grabbed Chloe by the hand and tugged her over to the bed, where they collapsed in a pile of limbs. After arranging themselves into a more comfortable position, they turned out the lights, and held each other in the dark.

"Hey Chloe?"

"Yeah?"

"I've been thinking about what Warren said earlier. About how saving Rachel caused everything to get more complicated. And what you said about how maybe I wasn't supposed to get these powers. Do you think those two things might be related?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean maybe my life wasn't supposed to be this fucking weird, and my powers just keep causing more drama to get thrown my way. Will it ever stop?"

"I don't know. Do you want it to?"

"At this point all I want is something stable that I can hold onto." Her arms wrapped tighter around the other girl. "And now I have it right here in front of me. I don't care how batshit crazy things get. From now on, we face it together. You, me, and Rachel. Maybe my life would be simpler without you, but I wouldn't trade this for anything."

"Me either, Max. You're right. We do this together."

They lay there in silence until sleep took them both.


	19. Burn Book

**Chapter Nineteen  
** Burn Book

A low rumble, like feedback on a gigantic pair of speakers, permeated the dark emptiness around her. The muffled caws of an unseen raven echoed in a circle, simultaneously distant and yet somehow right inside her head. None of it was unfamiliar to Chloe Price, who had come to think of these dreams as another part of her life. Knowing what she did now, that may not actually be far from the truth.

"Hello?" she called into the darkness, hearing her voice echo back a few times. "Anybody there?"

A light came into being suddenly, illuminating a large wooden cable spool that she had seen once before. On the other side of it sat a woman, blonde and disheveled, her various body decorations making Chloe's own sleeve tattoo look tasteful and understated. The raven was perched behind her right shoulder, watching over everything.

"Sera."

Sera Gearhardt looked up at her slowly, her mascara running just as it had that day. She took a drag on a cigarette, and motioned for her to sit. Chloe obliged, sliding into the chair across from her.

"Heard you were asking about me."

How and where the woman in front of her would have heard such things was irrelevant. What she saw was likely scavenged from Chloe's memories, meaning that whatever Chloe knew, she did too.

"Not me," she said. "But Rachel feels like you're our best lead for finding out who she really is, and why everything around her gets so weird. I kinda wish you were still here to tell us."

Sera shrugged, and the raven stared directly at Chloe. "I _am_ here. So ask."

"Did you really work for the Prescotts?"

A crooked smirk made its way to her face. "Did you ever stop to wonder why I did all those drugs? Why I craved escape? If you knew half the shit that happened to me, you'd have done the same."

"That's the problem," she said, leaning forward. "I _don't_ know what happened to you. Even if you told me now, I'm not sure I could trust any of it. Besides, we've got bigger problems to worry about."

"If you say so. You've got to be wondering how much of this you could have saved Rachel from if you'd just done what I asked and let her hold onto that perfect life her father tried to give her."

Chloe slowly shook her head. "But it _wasn't_ perfect. Even before you came back into the picture, she always felt like something was… missing. I couldn't hide the truth from her."

"That's funny," said Sera, stubbing out the cigarette. "Considering how she has no trouble hiding it from you."

She craned her head back. "That's not fair."

"Isn't it? Rachel's taken after her father in more ways than I could have imagined. She looks perfect on the surface, but dig deeper and you'll find someone who knows just what to say to get everyone she interacts with right where she wants them. She's manipulated you in ways you'll never even know."

"That doesn't mean she doesn't care," said Chloe. " _Everybody_ manipulates everybody else. That's half of what makes society work. Yeah, I'm kinda mad that she's been keeping secrets from me, but it doesn't matter. I still love her."

"You only say that because you haven't uncovered a secret big enough to really test your relationship," she replied, staring at her pitilessly. "Like when James found out about my addiction. Or when Rachel found out he'd been lying to her about me her whole life. Everybody's hiding a secret like that. It's only a matter of time before you find hers."

"Well _I'm_ not keeping any secrets like that," Chloe rebutted, standing up and slamming her fists down on the table. "And there is _nothing_ she could ever do that would make me stop loving her. Nothing."

"Love isn't the point." Sera unfolded her legs and rose up to meet her gaze. "James still loves me, for example. It didn't stop him from doing what he did. You can love someone and still have your trust in them shattered forever."

Shaking her head vigorously, Chloe gnashed her teeth. "That's not gonna happen with Rachel and me. We might be fucked up, but not as bad as you and her dad were. Whatever happens next, we'll find a way through it. I know we will."

"If you say so." Turning to leave, she spared one last glance over her shoulder. "Oh, one last thing. Get out of Arcadia Bay, while you still can. And take Rachel with you. There are things happening here that'll make you sorry you stuck around."

With that, she faded back into the darkness. Chloe glared after her.

"Don't tell me what to do."

* * *

Wednesday arrived without much fanfare, and Victoria hoped, perhaps naively, that it wouldn't prove nearly as exhausting as the day before. She had already showered and dressed, and was putting the finishing touches on her ensemble when she heard a knock at the door. She ignored it, but a few seconds later it grew louder and more insistent.

Groaning, she lurched over to the door and yanked it open, finding Courtney and Taylor on the other side of the threshold, and stared at them with eyes half-lidded. "What?"

"Uh, good morning, Victoria," Taylor said with more trepidation than usual. "Have you checked your socials yet?"

"I don't even acknowledge the existence of the internet before nine AM," she remarked coldly. "Did the world end or something?"

Not looking at her, Courtney swallowed. "Depends on what you mean."

"Someone vandalized your Facebook," said Taylor, scrolling through her phone before handing it to her. "It's better if you just see."

After a brief scan, Victoria concluded that her carefully constructed public image had indeed been shredded into ribbons and plastered on the internet. Most of it centered on Kate, but every status since yesterday had been buried under a litany of inflammatory remarks against almost the entire student body, well beyond the pale even by the standards of things Victoria had actually said. She barely got a quarter of the way through it before handing the phone back to Taylor, who seemed half-surprised that she hadn't thrown it.

"What the fuck?"

"We have no idea who hacked you," said Courtney. "But we contacted support to get your password reset. In the meantime, it's up there for the whole school to see."

"Not just that." Taylor glanced over to the next door, frowning. "There's a rumor going around that you're totally in lesbians with Kate Marsh."

"That I'm fucking _WHAT_?"

"Apparently you took down the video because you realized you were in love with her or something," said Courtney, adopting a disaffected posture. "And you had lunch with her and Max, who according to recent intel is about as straight as wet spaghetti."

The edges of her vision had started to turn red, and Victoria clutched the sides of her head as she breathed heavily. "Bring me the head of the bitch that started that rumor. Or better yet, tell them to start running while I hunt them for sport!"

"That's the problem. We don't know where it started. But we're working on it."

"Well work faster! Whoever's responsible for this is a dead bitch walking!"

The door behind them opened, and a tall, blue-haired delinquent emerged from what was definitely Max Caulfield's room. Picking her teeth with her pinky nail, she raised an eyebrow at them as she passed.

"Did someone say lesbians?"

"You!" Victoria screeched, and her minions parted as she barreled straight towards Chloe Price. "Did you start that fucking rumor?"

Chloe squinted with one eye, leaning away from the raging popular girl. "What rumor? There's at least five that I've heard about you in the last week."

"The one about me being gay for Kate, you fucking skater ho!"

Her face returned to a more neutral expression, and she stared at her in befuddlement. "This is the first I'm hearing about it."

She backed off, still fuming. "What are you even doing here? And what happened to your face?"

"I got in a gang fight. You should see the other guys."

Taylor blinked in surprise. "Seriously?"

"No."

"Whatever!" Victoria shouted. "We need to start doing damage control. How am I just finding out about this now? Has this been going on all morning?"

"We just learned about it like half an hour ago," said Courtney. "And we headed straight here. Honestly the student body is split between you actually being hacked or just faking it for attention. And you _did_ spend all day with Kate yesterday, so that one's pretty easy for some people to swallow."

"All I was trying to do was make up for all the shit I put her through." She practically growled the words as she paced. "And the _only_ explanation people can come up with is that I'm gay for her? What the hell is wrong with this school?"

"Gotta say, I can't help wondering why you're taking this so personally," said Chloe, tapping a finger against her chin. "How do you drama geeks put it? The lady doth protest too much?"

"Oh, shut up! Just because _you're_ a total dyke doesn't mean the rest of us have to be!"

She took the insult in stride, crossing her arms and staring at her with a wry smirk. "Wow, Victoria Chase is a raging homophobe. Who could have guessed?"

"I'm not—" Her face locked, and blood rushed into her cheeks. "I'm not, okay! Just shut up!"

"Relax, I'm not saying you hate gay people because you're secretly into chicks, but you're going pretty fucking ballistic right now. Makes me wonder if there's something deeper going on."

"It sounds like that's _exactly_ what you're saying," replied Courtney. "Or at least implying."

"God, none of that even matters!" yelled Victoria. "Do you know what this is gonna do to Kate? She got enough shit for that video."

Chloe inclined her head forward. "And whose fault was that again?"

"Yeah, sure, I'm a monster, whatever. Crucify me later. Right now we need to find out who's behind this before it gets any worse."

" _You_ need to figure that out," said Chloe. "I was just heading outside to smoke."

They all stared at her.

"What?"

"Seriously, what _are_ you doing here?" asked Courtney.

"She's staying with me for right now," said Max, who had appeared in the doorframe, still wearing a pajama shirt and shorts. "I let her crash here last night."

"See, _this_ is what I'm talking about!" Victoria shouted, gesturing towards them with both arms. "There are _actual_ lesbians in this dorm, but somehow _I'm_ the one with a rumor about me?"

Cringing slightly, Max leaned against the doorframe with her arms crossed. "Since when do you care so much about a stupid rumor?"

She considered that. Why _did_ she care so much about this? Half the school already hated her, and she hadn't felt the need to go into damage control mode after what happened on Saturday. Whatever the reason, Max's words gave her enough of a pause to right her course and start travelling down a different track.

"Okay, you're right." Shifting her weight between her feet, she wrapped her arms tightly around herself and glanced away, sighing as she felt the rage leave her. "This is how the old me would react. I'm trying to be a better person, and I guess that means admitting that I'm a little freaked out right now. Who would do this?"

"Maybe it's connected to the Rachel thing," suggested Taylor. "Think about it. There's plenty of people with a vendetta against popular kids. Maybe this is the next stage of whatever plan they cooked up."

"If it is, it's a serious downgrade from what happened yesterday," said Chloe. "These sorts of plans are supposed to scale _up_. This feels more like a normal high school prank with horrible timing."

"Prank? Have you _seen_ what they did to my Facebook page? The only person I _didn't_ insult is you because you don't go here anymore!"

"Yeah, that literally happened in _Mean Girls_."

"God, whatever! Max, do you have any theories?"

Max scratched her chin, glancing away from her and narrowing her eyes. She tilted her head as a flash of inspiration appeared to hit her, but she didn't deign to share her revelation. "I might have something," she said, "but I want to verify it before accusing anybody. In the meantime, try not to burn the whole school down, okay?"

Shrugging, Victoria nodded. "I'll do my best. In the meantime, I've got morning Chem. And you'd better actually show up at one of your classes before you end up like her."

"Nice chatting with you too," Chloe rebutted as they left. "Well, I'm gonna smoke. See ya in a few."

Rolling her eyes while grinning, Max headed back inside her room to get dressed.

* * *

With most parts of the investigation being handled by Chloe and Max, there wasn't much for Rachel to do besides sit around feeling sorry for herself. She'd considered venturing outside, maybe hanging out at the junkyard or the lighthouse like nothing had changed, but that train of thought was always defeated by an overwhelming desire to just curl up and wallow.

At least she had moved her pity party downstairs. Her father was at work and her mom was out buying supplies for that night's dinner, which meant she had a few hours to herself. She'd already spent most of it staring at the doors of her father's office, wondering if the answers to her current predicament lay in there. Rachel had just about worked up the nerve to open them when the doorbell rang.

Sighing, she lifted herself off the recliner and lumbered over to the stained-glass double doors, squinting at the silhouette on the other side, When she cracked it open, her fears were confirmed.

"Nathan," she said blankly, unsure which emotion she should be putting behind his name.

It was one thing to encounter him in the hallways of Blackwell with Max "Time Warrior" Caulfield standing right next to her. But peering at him from behind the barely opened door, with only her head exposed, the feeling that overtook her when she saw Jefferson the previous morning returned, though to a lesser degree.

If he sensed any hesitation on her part, Nathan Prescott did not acknowledge it, standing there with his hands tucked into the pockets of his red jacket.

"Hey, Rachel. Is your dad home?"

"He's at work right now. At his actual office." She narrowed her eyes. "I know why _I'm_ not at school, but why aren't you?"

He shrugged. "Had a free period. Wanted to see how you're holding up. Yesterday took a lot of people by surprise."

"Oh did it now? Wells told me you were the one who accused me the last two times."

Nathan rolled his eyes, shifting in place. "God, that's not what happened. Let me inside and I'll explain it to you."

Rearing her head back, Rachel stared at him warily. She already knew, in graphic detail, what happened to her in a world where Nathan Prescott had gotten her alone and taken advantage of her trust. Letting him inside was a horrible idea, and one that most people with common sense would not have even considered.

But Rachel Amber was not most people.

They'd been running out of leads on this investigation fast, and she needed to know why Nathan and her father had been working together. He was literally on her home turf, and as long as she didn't get too physically close to him or take any drinks he offered then she should be fine. She also knew where the guns were locked up.

"Okay, I'll hear you out," she said. "But you have to promise me the truth. I don't like it when people lie to me."

"Me either," he said, and she opened the door the rest of the way to allow him inside.

She did not offer him a drink, nor did he ask. She silently wandered back to the recliner where she had spent the last hour or three, and stood beside it with her arms crossed, not letting him out of her sight. He sat down in the one across from her.

"So look," he began, staring straight at her. "What Wells told you about me narcing on you wasn't the whole truth. That fascist dickhead Madsen caught me carrying, and asked where I bought 'em from."

"And you told him it was me? Why?"

Nathan shook his head. "I didn't. He already knew about Frank, and he made up his mind that you were his way of cracking into the high school market. Like he needed any fucking help with that. Madsen heard what he wanted to hear, then acted like I was the one who came up with the whole thing when he passed it on to Wells."

"And then your dad got you out of it."

He chuckled.

"You know from what I hear, David Madsen's been working pretty closely with your dad."

"I don't keep track of all that," he said with a shrug. "All I know is he's consulting on security for Pan Estates. Nothing major."

"And keeping your record spotless?"

"What can I say?" He held his arms out to the side, then let them fall again. "Just give it time. Your dad will make everything go away for you too. We've got _that_ in common."

The implication that they could be anything alike raised her hackles a bit, but Rachel reminded herself that she had been friends with Nathan for years. Based on what Max had told her, it was mostly Jefferson's toxic influence that caused things to get as extreme as they did in the other timeline. If he could get proper help, along with a healthy distance from his family and a certain psycho photography professor, maybe they could prevent such a thing from happening in this world.

Maybe that was why he didn't scare her, even though she knew perfectly well what another version of him had done. But that didn't mean she trusted him.

"You asked if he was here when I first opened the door," she said, tilting her head to the side. "And I know you were here Monday night. What are you and my dad working on together?"

He clammed up, glancing towards the doors of the office. "I can't talk about that."

"Can't? Or won't? I warned you not to lie to me."

"Which is why I'm telling you I can't talk about it. I signed a confidentiality agreement and everything. All I can say is it has to do with an ongoing investigation."

Rachel craned her head back, and her eyes grew narrow. "Investigation into who? And are you a witness or an informant?"

"I already said I can't talk about it," he replied, standing up and making for the door. "Forget I came here."

"Nathan, wait!"

He stopped halfway to the door, glancing over his shoulder. "What?"

"Do you have _any_ idea, any clue at all, as to why someone would plant that weed? Because I keep coming up empty."

Nathan shook his head, and continued to face away from her. "Sorry. But like I said, don't worry about it. This'll all work itself out in the end."

She said nothing in response. He continued walking to the door and let himself out, and Rachel stood there mutely for five minutes before striding over to her father's office and keying in her birthday.

* * *

With a slight bounce in her step, Kate Marsh walked down the hallways of Blackwell feeling better than she had in the past two weeks. She clutched a textbook tight against her chest, making her way to her morning Chemistry class with no great hurry.

It wasn't until she heard the noise die down around her that she noticed the stares. Conversations came to a halt as she passed by, though once they noticed her staring back they returned to whatever they'd been doing. She took a deep breath and steeled herself. It wasn't anything new. Ever since that video went viral, her whole world had changed.

But now that she had the support of her friends and had come to an understanding with Victoria, the world around her no longer seemed dark and uncaring. The stares were less judgmental and more generally uncomfortable, like they had something to tell her but weren't quite sure how, and had thus decided to keep it to themselves. She paid it no further mind as she continued down the hall, joining Brooke, Stella, and Alyssa as they stood outside the science lab.

"Good morning," she greeted cheerfully, and they waved back in response.

"Hey Kate," said Stella, with that same uncomfortable look behind her eyes. "Your morning going okay?"

She smiled. "Actually, yeah. You?"

"Can't complain. Ms. Grant's late and the door's locked, so we're waiting on someone to come open up the classroom."

"She wasn't here yesterday either," said Alyssa. "Hopefully they cancel class today. I did _not_ finish the homework last night."

"They'll get a sub," said Brooke, locked in a staring contest with her phone. "In the meantime, I guess we'll just have to keep ourselves occupied."

Kate frowned. Ms. Grant was the only member of the Blackwell faculty who hadn't ignored her when she felt like she was all alone. As much as she enjoyed the company of the girls in front of her, their friendship was only skin deep. They didn't interact much beyond having class together and occasionally hanging out.

"Do any of you have any new theories about what might have happened with Rachel yesterday?" she asked, then looked at Stella. "I know you think it has something to do with her dad's re-election, but I can't help feeling like there's an important clue missing."

"I never said I thought that was the reason," said Stella. "More of a natural consequence of what happened."

"I think Rachel got mixed up with the wrong people," said Alyssa. "Like Nathan and Victoria. Nothing good ever happens when those two are involved."

"Agreed," said Brooke. "But what goes around comes around."

Staring at them confused, Kate leaned back and quirked her lips to the side. "What are you guys not telling me?"

"See for yourself." She handed her the phone, which was opened to Victoria's Facebook page. She barely got five statuses in before she handed it back, her head swimming with emotion.

"What is that?"

"Depends who you ask," said Stella. "Most people think she got hacked. But there's another group saying she put all that up herself just to pull a Regina George and play the victim. In any case, it's not just her people are talking about."

Narrowing her eyes, Kate looked between them. "Meaning…?"

"Word spreads fast in a town this small. Apparently you called Victoria out pretty hard in the diner right after I left, then later that night you two spent a few hours of alone time in her room. And, well, people started talking."

"She was catching me up on what I missed in Jefferson's class," she insisted. "She apologized for what I called her out on, and we're getting along now."

"See, that's what everyone's talking about," said Brooke, with a considerably more venomous tone. "You seem to be getting along with a lot of popular kids these days. Like Victoria. Like Nathan. Even Rachel's not the perfect angel we all thought she was."

"We're worried you might be in with the wrong crowd," said Alyssa. "Why are you wasting your time with them?"

Kate backed up, feeling suddenly cornered even though her back wasn't to the wall. "Who I hang out with is my business. I've forgiven Victoria for what she did to me. She really wants to make a change and be a better person. I'm just doing what my faith tells me I should do."

"No one's saying you're at fault, Kate." Brooke placed a hand on her shoulder. "But you shouldn't trust people like that. They'll never think of you as one of them."

Her eyes darted back and forth between all of them. "I can't believe you guys. I thought all of you knew better than to judge people like that."

"Our actions define who we are," said Stella. "And Victoria's made it _very_ clear who she is. You can't expect someone like that to change overnight."

"I don't. But she's working at it. Shouldn't we give her that chance?"

They all stared at her mutely.

"Forget it," she snapped, scowling. "I'm not giving up on her. She deserves the opportunity to try again."

"If you say so." Brooke returned to staring at her phone. Stella and Alyssa broke off from the group, milling about further in the hall. Kate found a quiet spot by the lockers to wait until the doors were opened and class began.

* * *

Digging through files for about ten minutes had failed to produce anything useful regarding either Nathan or whatever investigation he was involved in. The process was slowed by having to painstakingly put each file back in such a way that it wouldn't be obvious that she was looking through them. She scowled as she began looking through her father's computer.

"Of course he wouldn't keep any of it here," she muttered. "Not after Chloe went through all his shit three years ago."

She could still see the stains that the permanent marker had left on the drawers, spelling out the words "secret booze stash." Rachel chuckled and changed the focus of her search. She hadn't been able to pull up much on that auto repair place with a general internet search, but surely the DA would have something more comprehensive.

She hit paydirt a few minutes later. The shop belonged to Clayton Bradshaw, whose name had come up in a few cases involving everything from intimidating unions to tampering with evidence. Yet somehow, nothing ever ended up being pinned on him, only the people he worked with. From the names of the corporate entities involved in those cases, it became clear that he had someone watching out for him. Or several someones.

One detail stood out to her, and she dialed Chloe immediately.

"Hey, Rachel. What's up?"

"Chloe Price," she said with added flair. "How would you like to join me on a little stakeout tonight?"

"Don't have to ask me twice. Who're we spying on?"

"I looked into that auto repair place you found a bill for," she clarified. "Specifically the guy who owns it. Get this: he also owns American Rust."

"Wait, he owns the junkyard? _Our_ junkyard?"

"Yep. He bought a new salvage operation out by the mill a few years ago. I don't know exactly what he's up to, but I think he's our missing puzzle piece. Pick me up tonight and we can scope the place out. I know a nice spot where we can park in the forest, maybe get a set of binoculars…"

"Rachel, there are less complicated ways to arrange a make-out session."

She laughed. "Drama queen, remember? So are you in or not?"

"Yeah, I'm in. I'll pick you up later."

"See you then."

She cleared the browser history and locked the computer again. She was on her way out the door when her eyes caught a file she hadn't seen before, and which she could have sworn hadn't been in that spot when she'd looked there earlier. A name was printed on the folder in plain, professional font.

It was labelled "Sera Gearhardt."

* * *

Chloe had just about finished the cigarette when she disconnected the call, stuffing her phone back in her pocket. She was standing near the entrance to the building that contained Blackwell's famous Olympic-sized pool, where she'd always secretly longed to go for an illicit midnight swim. Maybe with the aid of some time travel powers, she and Max could enjoy a night to themselves in the heated water.

"You know, those things are bad for you."

Narrowing her eyes as she looked up, she saw a moderately attractive man with hipster glasses and a well-trimmed beard, who moved closer and stood in front of her, crossing his arms. He seemed familiar, but she couldn't quite match the face to a name.

"So I've been told."

"You're Chloe Price, right? I've seen you with Max Caulfield."

She raised an eyebrow and glanced at him suspiciously. "Yeah. And you are…?"

"Mark Jefferson," he answered, extending a hand that she did not shake. "I'm the Photography professor. Max is one of my brightest students, you know."

It occurred to Chloe in that moment that even though she'd spent the entire weekend planning different ways to dispose of him, she'd never actually met Mr. Jefferson. He was much less impressive than the version of him that she'd built up in her head. He seemed comically unthreatening, almost deliberately so. But there was something behind his eyes, something cunning and intelligent, that made her rethink that assessment.

It took every ounce of her willpower not to put the cigarette out in his eye. There were other people in the courtyard, and she couldn't start maiming him with witnesses around. She maintained her composure by some miracle, and decided to play along for now.

"I've heard," she replied. "Didn't you get famous in New York or something? Why are you slumming it out here with us Blackwell hicks?"

"When you see enough of the big city, it all starts to blend together," he answered. "I like it better out here. People show you more of themselves. Even when they think they're hiding."

' _Well that wasn't ominous or anything.'_ She decided to play dumb. "What do you mean?"

Jefferson cracked a smug grin. "The biggest challenge in photography is capturing the person behind the subject," he explained. "New York models are more cynical than most, but everyone out there is used to being constantly watched, whether it's from surveillance cameras or other people on the street. They get good at making sure the world only sees what they want them to see. It gets old after a while."

"People do that everywhere though," she replied, resisting the urge to punch him right in his stupid face. "Not just in the big city. Everyone around here keeps secrets."

"True enough. But a few retain that spark; that innocence. Mostly I'm just here to make sure the next generation of photographers doesn't settle for taking their subjects at face value. They should be looking beyond the surface."

"Even if those people have a reason for keeping that shit hidden? What about privacy?"

He shrugged. "Art is supposed to push boundaries. It's not about learning every detail of a subject's life. It's about revealing their true self, which they keep hidden even from themselves. Capturing that should be every photographer's goal."

' _Enough of this pretentious bullshit.'_ She rolled her eyes. "You don't need to make such a hard sell. I don't even go to this school anymore."

He chuckled. "True enough. Speaking of which, tell Max next time you see her that I can only cover for her being absent so many times before it becomes an obligation to report it to the principal. I expect to see her in my class this afternoon."

"You got it, dude," she said, giving a small salute before dropping the cigarette and snuffing it with her foot. "If you'll excuse me…"

"I won't keep you," he said, holding his hands up in front of him. "But it was nice meeting you. It's a shame your time here ended before my tenure started. I've heard you're a talented artist. You left quite the mark on this school… in your own way."

"If by that you mean I graffitied the fuck out of it, then yeah. But science was always more my bag." She walked past him, where he couldn't see her scowl. "I'll pass your message along to Max. Whether she'll listen or not… well, that's up to her."

"I understand. Take care now."

She didn't respond.


	20. We Could Just Kiss Like Real People Do

**Chapter Twenty  
** We Could Just Kiss Like Real People Do

The day passed into afternoon, and Chloe walked alongside Max as they headed to the main building with autumn exploding all around them. The campus grounds were positively idyllic, designed to evoke a memory of some small town Americana that had never actually existed. But neither of them were taken in by the illusion; the school's darkest secrets had been bared to both of them, and they kept each other safe, stopping just shy of holding hands, not that either of them gave a shit if anybody saw.

"You sure you're up for this?"

"I've put it off as long as I can. I'm still technically a student here. My classes don't stop existing just because everything else in my life is caught up in crazy conspiracy bullshit."

"Yeah, but… it's Jefferson. The guy actually came up and talked to me earlier. He wasn't anything like I expected."

"Who exactly were you picturing? Leatherface?"

"I was thinking more Buffalo Bill. You know they're both based on the same guy?"

Max leaned her head back and squinted. "Really?"

"Yep. Ed Gein. Serial killer from the fifties with serious issues. Norman Bates was based on him too. He was such a piece of work they had to split him into three characters so the story'd be believable."

"How do you know all this?"

"…I may have been on your computer researching serial killers."

Max's face scrunched up further. "Ew. Why would you even want to read that stuff?"

"Because I'm hoping it'll give us an edge on Nathan and Jefferson, or at least some insight. What drives someone to do that to people?"

"I'm not sure how much looking up serial killers will help. Rachel was the only one they murdered, and even that was an accident."

"Only one you know about, anyway."

By this point they had passed the picnic tables and were nearing the main doors. They slowed their pace, keeping enough distance from the other students that their conversation wouldn't be overheard. Max sighed and shook her head.

"All I know is Jefferson doesn't see any of his students as people. We're all just subjects to him."

"Yeah, I could tell. Does he always lecture people even when no one's paying him to?"

She nodded. "I can't believe it took me so long to realize he's full of shit. Everyone here buys into it because they're so blinded by their own bullshit that they're not even paying attention. I was so focused on David, Frank, and Nathan in the other timeline I never saw it coming, even though the signs were there all along."

"Well, you already solved the mystery," said Chloe. "You know where to find the evidence, and we even have witnesses. Why not just call the cops and be done with it?"

"What can they actually charge him with? Kidnapping? Drugging people against their will? That shit doesn't exactly get you a life sentence, Chloe. What happens when he gets out of prison?"

"Okay one, I plan to be far away from Arcadia Bay by the time that happens. Two, you can't teach on a felony conviction. And _everyone_ will know who he is, so he can't prey on their trust anymore."

Max shook her head sadly. "But you're forgetting Nathan's involved. Jefferson's name isn't technically on any of that stuff. Nathan's dad paid for it all, and in the other timeline Jefferson was planning to pin it all on Nathan after he killed him. Without a murder charge, the Prescotts can just make it all go away."

"So then what? Do we just dangle someone in front of them? Use them as bait so the cops can catch 'em in the act?"

"Obviously not. Especially since the next target after Kate and Victoria was me."

Chloe glanced sideways at her, concerned. They stopped and sat down at the fountain in front of the main entrance, watching the doors. "You think that's still the case?"

"I don't know. I haven't really given him any reason to go after me like I did in the other timeline. But who knows? He was grooming me pretty hard with the whole Everyday Heroes contest. Always talking about my potential and shit."

"People used to talk about my potential," she said. "Right before saying how I was wasting it."

Max put a hand on her arm and began to stroke. "You're not wasting anything. You were too good for this place, that's all."

"If there's one thing I've learned, it's that you don't have to live up to what the world says you should be." She wrapped an arm around her, and Max leaned her head into the crook of her neck. "It's just a way that people try and control you. And even if you do meet everybody's expectations, you end up living a lie just so they won't realize you're not actually perfect."

"Is that why Rachel's so upset about everyone worshipping her?"

"From what I can tell, yeah. Speaking of Rachel, we're going on a stakeout tonight. Wanna come?"

Escaping from her grasp, Max sat up straight. "I can't. I promised to go to Steph's game night."

"Aw, fuck. I forgot about that. Sure you don't want to blow it off?"

She chuckled. "It's fine. You go have fun with Rachel. You deserve it after this week. Warren and I will chase down leads on our end."

"Just don't go starting a harem," she teased. "Three is already pretty crowded."

"Don't make me dunk you in this fountain."

"I'd like to see you try, hippie."

They both laughed before standing up and embracing in a long hug. "Good luck in there. I know you got this. Call me if you need backup."

"Thanks, Chloe. For always believing in me."

"I always will. No matter what."

They separated, and Chloe stood in front of the fountain, continuing to watch the doors until Max disappeared inside.

* * *

Mr. Jefferson had yet to arrive when Max entered the classroom, which was one small mercy. She made her way quickly over to her desk and sat down, trying to block out the people around her. Not that any of them seemed to pay her any mind.

Instead, all eyes were on Victoria, who bristled uncomfortably even while subconsciously presenting the most flattering angle. Taylor sat next to her texting and snickering, while Brooke, Stella, and Alyssa watched intently from across the room. Daniel was focused on his sketchbook, and seemed relieved that, for once, he wasn't the one being targeted for ridicule.

Something trippy must have happened in between timelines, because Max didn't remember Brooke being in Jefferson's class during this particular period. She sat next to Stella, at the desk closest to the door, while Hayden spaced out next to them, still tripping on whatever he'd taken at lunch.

Kate entered the class shortly after, and everyone's eyes followed her as she tried to get to her seat with as much dignity as possible. Max sent a sympathetic look her way, for which she received a faint smile. The other girl made it to her desk and sat down, burying herself in her textbook.

Max had just about convinced herself to relax when Jefferson made his entrance. "Good afternoon, class." He glanced her way, then to her right. "Max, Kate, I'm glad you could join us today."

The rest of the class, except for Victoria, chuckled.

"Before we get to today's lesson, I've been instructed to go over some of the core principles here at Blackwell," he began, standing up straight in contrast to the casual lean he normally adopted. "Now, nobody here wants to listen to an old man drone on about how drugs are dangerous, but the more important lesson here is about keeping secrets. Eventually, they always come out."

' _Yeah, you'd know all about that, wouldn't you?_ '

"I'm sure you all heard what happened yesterday," he continued. "And I'll remind you that gossip helps nobody. If one doesn't have all the facts, then making a fair judgment is impossible. I'd encourage all of you to refrain from jumping to conclusions about what may or may not be occurring here at Blackwell."

"But shouldn't we be concerned about people bringing a bad influence into our school?" asked Stella. "You're always telling us we should be more aware of what's happening in the world."

"Yeah," said Brooke, whose eyes fell squarely upon Victoria. "If someone's keeping a secret that could put other people at risk, shouldn't we tell someone?"

"Well of course," said Jefferson. "But you should be careful how you proceed with something like that. Telling the proper authorities, for instance, instead of starting a rumor mill." His gaze travelled to Max. "Taking things into your own hands, however equipped you think you are to handle it, usually ends in disaster."

She squinted back at him, trying to discern how much was implied in that statement.

"Well I don't think people should keep secrets," said Brooke, still glaring at Victoria. "Like you said, they always 'come out' sooner or later."

A significant portion of the students laughed, glancing over at Kate. Victoria narrowed her eyes, then raised her hand. "Mr. Jefferson?"

"Yes, Victoria?"

"Can I move desks for today? I'd like to sit closer to the window."

He blinked, glancing around as he picked up on the energy of the room. "I don't see why not."

"Thank you." With graceful poise, she lifted up her chair, carrying it behind Max, then past her to where Kate was sitting, and set it down next to her. The giggling from the other end of the room stopped, and she slid back into her seat, then looked up at him with a smile. "Continue."

"Uh, right." It took him a few seconds to regain his composure. "As I was saying, the faculty of Blackwell hopes that this is an environment where you can feel comfortable coming forward if there's anything you feel is important enough to share. Before it gets out of control."

' _Not with you around it isn't_.'

"Anyway, onto today's lesson." He adopted a more casual pose, and all eyes fell on him, with Max's falling more harshly than the rest. "Show of hands. Who here has used Photoshop to make something impossible happen in their photographs?"

The whole class raised their hands.

"Now, how many of you think that's a recent invention?"

Fewer hands went up.

"Very good. Today we'll be going over a few fads in photography that involve superimposed images, such as the 'headless' fad or 'spirit photographers,' who claimed they could take pictures of the ghosts of lost loved ones. Even Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, the creator of Sherlock Holmes, was fooled by two girls playing around with paper cutouts and claiming they were fairies."

Rolling her eyes, Max leaned back in her seat and prepared to endure the lecture, envious of Chloe's ability to just not care. What upset her most was that the material in this class was still interesting; her professor was just a total psychopath, which gave her mixed feelings about actually learning. But like she'd told Chloe earlier, being caught up in all this bullshit didn't make the rest of her life suddenly not matter anymore.

Really, she was more worried about Victoria and Kate. The two had just reconciled, and their newly found friendship was already on shaky ground even before the rumors had started. She wasn't sure how much more of this Kate could take, and by this point Victoria had probably paid off whatever bad karma her other actions had caused. And neither of them knew the danger presented by Mr. Jefferson. But then, the damage was already done.

Why hadn't she turned him in by this point? Even if they couldn't make him go away forever, the thought of him living free, able to keep hurting girls as he pleased, made her progressively sicker and more angry to the point where he was starting to notice her glowering at him. She couldn't stand the charade for much longer, but the thought of what happened last time she snapped kept her fury at bay. For now.

She sighed and stared out the window, hoping Chloe was at least having a better time of things than she was.

* * *

Chloe arrived at the Amber residence just prior to sundown, before the sky's cheerful blue gave way to gold. Her partner in crime emerged from around the side, hefting a duffel bag into the bed of the truck. Her long blonde hair had been tucked up into a beanie and stowed out of sight, and she was dressed head to toe in black.

"Ahoy, Matey! Ready to sail the seven seas?"

Grinning crookedly, Rachel tilted her head sideways and peered in through the open passenger side window. "Permission to come aboard?"

"Grrrranted."

She clambered inside, affording Chloe a better look at how sleek and form-fitting her outfit was. Blood rushed to her cheeks, and she bit her lip. Her breathing returned to normal after a few seconds of intense focus.

"What?"

"Nothing. I just never knew stakeout clothes could be so sexy."

"Need some time alone?"

Shaking her head rapidly to clear her it, she put the truck in gear and pulled out onto the road. "So what'd you bring?"

"Well, we've got your standard binoculars," she replied, pulling them out of the small backpack that she'd brought inside the cabin. "Pack of cigarettes, some water, a few snacks, and a change of clothes for you. In case you were worried about me hogging all the sexy."

Chloe laughed. "Your parents notice you stepping out?"

"Like they care. I'm not grounded, remember? Besides, no way in hell do we want to be around when your folks get here."

"No argument here. I might have finally banished myself for good."

Rachel pivoted in her direction and began stroking her arm. "I'm so sorry that happened to you, Chloe. You shouldn't have to live with that asshole."

"I've been telling my mom that for years. And yet somehow, I'm always the one who ends up peacing out. Just once I'd like to make _him_ leave."

"I'm sorry for telling you to trust him."

"So is Max." She pulled out onto the main highway, and they started driving along the coast, the sun forming a halo behind her head. "But I don't blame either of you. You're both looking at the bigger picture, and I'm just caught up in my own bullshit, like always."

"Hey. Don't say that about yourself."

She shrugged. "Why not? It's true."

"No it's not, Chloe. There's no one I'd rather have by my side in all this. Why do you think I asked you to come along?"

"You mean this isn't a booty call?"

A hand smacked her shoulder. "I'm just saying there's a reason why you're the only one I trusted the first time we met three years ago. Somehow I knew you'd understand what I was going through with my dad. Even when everything else in my life is fake, you've always been the real deal."

A grin slowly crawled across Chloe's face. "You just knew, huh? Sure you weren't stalking me?"

She blushed. "I… may have done a little research. Enough to know you were going to that Firewalk show."

"Wait, you mean that really _wasn't_ a coincidence?"

"The text my dad got from Sera happened way earlier in the week," she revealed, leaning forward. "I'd been planning that thing in the park, but I needed an accomplice. Someone who wasn't afraid of breaking a few rules. And I hate to say it, but you kinda already had a reputation for that."

"Haha, awesome. Why all the theatrics, though? Why not just tell me that's what we were doing from the start?"

She held up a finger. "One, drama queen. Two, would you have still gone with me if I'd been like: 'Hey, girl I've never met, wanna help me catch my cheating dad in the act?'"

"Probably. You're hella convincing."

"True. Still, I barely knew you back then. Definitely couldn't have predicted you'd become one of the most important people in my life."

"Me either. That whole weekend was a fucking trip. Changed my life."

"Mine too. For better and worse. Speaking of which…" She reached into the backpack once more, producing a manila folder. "When I was digging around in my dad's office, I found this. It's a bunch of different files on Sera. Hospital records, rehab forms, records of halfway houses she stayed in… he was keeping track of her all that time. Making sure she stayed away from me."

"Damn. I'm sorry you never got the chance to meet her."

"Not your fault." She opened the folder. "There's something else in here. It's mostly redacted, but it has to do with a military project. Something called Operation Charybdis. Guess who the contractor was."

"Sean Prescott?"

"Got it in one. You know I actually asked my dad yesterday if he knew anything about her working for them, and he lied to my fucking face. Again."

"Does it say what the project was about?"

"Something to do with geological surveying and advanced medical trials." Rachel shrugged, shutting the folder. "But like I said, it's all classified. I don't even know how my dad got this. And I could have sworn it wasn't even there when I was looking in that spot earlier. It's like it just appeared. Weird, right?"

"Yeah," said Chloe. "Weird."

"Anyway, on to the main reason we're on this field trip." She produced another folder. "This is everything I could dig up on that auto repair shop. Mostly they do specialty repair jobs, and there's still a few working farms in the area. This Bradshaw guy's name came up in a few cases that went through my dad's office, but he's never been charged with anything."

"So what's he even got to do with this?"

"I'm not sure. That bill you found with your stepdad's stuff means this place is involved somehow, but other than obscenely overcharging for oil changes, I don't see how this guy's into anything criminal."

Chloe rested her chin between her thumb and index finger "Maybe it wasn't actually for an oil change."

"Come again?"

"What if that's just a cover for something else? Like if you wanted to keep a record of a transaction without saying what it's really for?"

"If that's true, then this guy's stupider than I thought. I mean forget the cops or the FBI, if the IRS takes one look at his tax returns they'll know he's up to no good. Money laundering is more complicated than just taking money for one thing and saying it's for something else."

"But what if the money was otherwise legit? If no one's complaining about getting overcharged, then who's really gonna pay attention to his books?"

"So instead of moving dirty money, he might be offering services other than auto repair?"

"Exactly," she said. "Say for instance, planting weed in a certain Blackwell student's locker."

"I think someone would have noticed if a guy like that was creeping around campus."

Chloe shook her head. "I don't mean he did it himself. He probably just paid someone at Blackwell to do the job. Like how Frank had me search for the money Drew was hiding."

"That just leaves the question of who hired him to do that," said Rachel. "And why."

"Max thinks it might have something to do with your dad's re-election." By this point they had steered away from the coast, heading deeper inland. "He's built his whole reputation by being tough on drugs, then all of a sudden you get busted? You don't need me to tell you that's not gonna look good."

Rachel chuckled darkly. "You know what's so funny about this? That's not even half as bad as the shit he's actually done."

"No kidding. Still, what did your dad do that would make someone go to all that trouble? He piss off any mob bosses lately?"

Staring at the dashboard, she narrowed her eyes. "Maybe."

Chloe glanced at her sideways. "What are you not telling me?"

"Okay don't get mad. Nathan stopped by my house earlier, and we talked for a bit."

"What?! Are you crazy? You know what he almost did to you!"

Rolling her eyes, Rachel leaned back in her seat. "Believe me, I'm well aware. But that was six months ago, and I didn't let my guard down around him. I asked him why he was at my house Monday night, and he told me he's involved in one of my dad's investigations."

"Wait, seriously? What kind of investigation?"

"He wouldn't say. But it might be why someone's so pissed off at my dad that they'd go after me to get to him."

"Fuck, Rachel." She slammed her hands down on the steering wheel. "Did you get anything else out of him?"

"No. He left right after that." She scowled. "You wanna know something weird? Even though I know what another version of him did to me, I was still friends with Nathan for years. I can't help feeling a little sorry for him." Rachel sighed. "I don't think he'd have gotten as messed up as he is if it wasn't for his dad or Mr. Jefferson."

"Yeah, boo fucking hoo. You and I have been through way worse shit than he has, and you don't see us kidnapping people."

"I'm just saying, maybe we should come at this from a different angle. Instead of going after Jefferson directly, we could get Nathan to flip on him."

Chloe shook her head. "That's the craziest fucking thing I've ever heard."

"It could work. And if it doesn't, we know someone who can make it like nothing ever happened."

"Even Max's powers have limits. And we shouldn't be using them on lost causes. Everyone talks about how Nathan's so misunderstood; he's got issues, he can't help acting out sometimes. Well you know what? All that shit applies to me too! The only difference is, he gets away with it because he's too goddamn rich to experience consequences. I say fuck him."

"Damn." Rachel chuckled, weathering her anger with practiced ease. "Tell me how you really feel, Price."

"We can't trust Nathan," she said. "We can't trust your dad, and we _really_ can't trust David. From now on, it's you, me, and Max. No one else."

Rachel shrugged. "Fair enough."

* * *

"So tell me," said Rachel, peering through the binoculars. "How did the whole pirate thing start? I don't think I've ever seen you get on a boat in all the time we've known each other." She passed them over, and Chloe brought them up to her eyes. "I mean, aside from the one in the junkyard."

They were parked on a hill overlooking the auto repair shop and attached salvage yard, which made American Rust look like a slightly disheveled backyard by comparison. Dark shapes loomed ominously in the stark moonlight, their skeletons melding together in the darkness into twisted monstrosities. Like scarecrows made of scrap metal.

"We were eight," said Chloe. " _Pirates of the Caribbean_ had just come out. Me and Max dragged our parents to see it with us like five times. Then it kinda became our thing."

"I see. You had a secret tree fort, right? I saw where you and Max drew it on that map by the lighthouse." She leaned in and smirked. "Right next to where you carved your initials in a tree."

She chuckled.

"How come you never took me there? You _did_ ask me to be your first mate, after all."

"That thing fell apart even before Max moved away," she said. "My dad busted his ass for a week building it for us, and I think we only got to use it like three times before the nails started falling out and he told us we couldn't go up there anymore. In the end the tree got cut down."

"What a shame."

"Our pirate phase only lasted like two years," she said. "We were over it by the time I started going to Blackwell. The last time we did anything related to it was…"

"What?"

"Max and I were cleaning out my room one day and we found a tape we made talking about where we buried our treasure. We decided to have one last adventure and dig it up." She smiled sadly. "She was trying to tell me she was moving away, and I wanted to distract her. And it worked. For a little bit."

Rachel nodded solemnly. "What did you bury?"

"A time capsule. Letters we wrote to each other, old drawings, a bunch of mushy crap that we did when we were eight. Turns out my dad dug it up years before and put it in a better container. He left a tape explaining everything. Max told me she was leaving, and I told her it didn't matter, that we'd always be together, and then…"

"And then?"

"Then my mom came through the door and gave me the worst news of my life."

"Oh." Rachel's voice broke as she realized. "I'm so sorry, Chloe."

"Don't be. It's not your fault everything in my life leads back to my dad dying."

"I know. It's just… it sucks, you know? I wish I could have been there for you back then."

"Max said that too. But she wasn't. The last I heard from her was a tape she left me after my dad's funeral." She chuckled darkly. "I could never understand why she didn't have the guts to tell me goodbye in person."

Rachel looked away. "Maybe she felt like it would be too much for her. Having to say goodbye after you just lost your dad… that's a lot for anyone to handle, much less a thirteen year old girl with chronic wallflower syndrome."

"Being shy is no excuse for ghosting your best friend with a stupid tape. It didn't even sound like her. She kept telling me to be strong, that we'd still be together, even if we weren't. I don't know; it felt like the girl on that tape knew she wasn't coming back."

"Wait," she said, turning back to her and squinting. "You don't think…?"

"That she travelled back in time and left me that tape?"

"Exactly."

Chloe shrugged. "It's possible. She took a zillion different photos that day. She could've travelled back through one of them to give me one last goodbye."

"Before she found a better way of getting back in touch with you, you mean?"

"Yeah. I'm still tripping on how she saved you. Even with all the bullshit going on in our lives, I wouldn't trade either of you for anything."

"It sucks that she couldn't save your dad, though. At least not without paralyzing you."

Chloe nodded. "You and I never met in that world, either. I don't blame her for pulling the cord on the whole thing. At least she tried."

"Yeah."

"You know what I kinda _do_ hold against her, even though I shouldn't? She never had to deal with any bullshit from her parents. Never had to watch them die, or lie to her, or let her down. Does that make me a bad person?"

Rachel shook her head. "They _did_ take her away from Arcadia Bay just when you needed each other the most."

She snerked. "Yeah, they're the real villains of this story."

"I still don't know how to feel about my parents," she admitted, reclining back. "My dad lied to me for years, hired a drug dealing psychopath to make my birth mother disappear, and the woman I thought was my mom just… went along with it. Some days I wish I'd never found out about any of it."

Chloe frowned, setting the binoculars down on the dashboard. "Are you saying you wish I hadn't told you?"

"No." She shook her head back and forth, shifting in place so that she was facing her. "I always want you to be honest with me, Chloe. I know I don't always tell _you_ the truth, but…"

She waved her hand. "Forget about it. I don't lie about stuff that matters."

Frowning morosely, she hung her head and refused to meet Chloe's eyes. " _I_ do."

"Like what?"

"Like that stuff with Sam. I know I should have told you I was helping her and Frank, but I was afraid you'd give me shit for it."

Chloe shrugged. "Maybe I would have. But you've always been able to handle shit from me. If we keep stuff from each other just so there won't be any friction, we'll end up just like your parents."

"I know."

Quirking her lips to the side, she exhaled deeply. "Rachel, I have to tell you something. About Sera."

"What?"

"After I saw her get injected, Damon Merrick kicked me in the head so hard I passed out. When I woke up, I didn't see Frank anywhere, but Sera was at a table nearby. Just sitting there."

She frowned. "She tried to convince me not to tell you what really happened. To help keep the fantasy of your perfect family alive. But I couldn't do it."

"Wait, you talked to her?"

Chloe nodded. "To this day I'm still not sure if any of it was real. She got injected with enough drugs to kill a horse, and every other time I went unconscious that weekend, I ended up in a nightmare. It felt more real that time, but I still don't know if I was actually talking to her."

"Why not?"

"Because who the fuck moves heaven and earth to reunite with their long lost kid, only to give up after getting dosed with drugs against their will? That money your dad had been sending her all that time? She'd been returning it. She wrote you letters that he never let you see. She even hired a lawyer, which made your dad desperate enough to cut a deal with Damon. Why would she abandon all of it after that?"

"So the only alternative is that you were talking to her ghost?"

"Maybe. I don't know. But last night she showed up in one of my dreams. She told me to leave Arcadia Bay and take you with me, while we still have the chance."

"And before all this crazy shit happened I would have happily done just that. But something's keeping me here. I need to know who I am, where I came from, and how my birth mother fits into it all. Not to mention we still need to shut down Mr. Jefferson."

"Yeah. I actually met him earlier today. Total pretentious creep. I don't get what other people see in him."

"That's because most people don't know who he really is," said Rachel. "Even I didn't, and I'm good at spotting lies. He's just a better liar."

Chloe picked the binoculars back up and stared down at the repair shop, where the single exposed bulb outside the office was still burning in the night. The garage itself was still open, and a figure was still moving inside. So far no one else had shown up.

"Anything?"

A shrug. "This guy really likes working on cars."

"Hey can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"Yesterday, when you told my mom you wanted to study auto repair, did you mean it?"

She didn't answer for a few seconds. "I dunno. You sounded so sure of what you want to do with your life, and I can't just mooch off people forever. Fixing cars is something I'm actually good at. Gotta say though, I could do better than this place."

"You and Max could also try private investigating," Rachel suggested. "She's got the camera and the supernatural powers, you've got the street-tough, hard-boiled attitude. And you're not bad to have along on a stakeout."

"What does that make you? The dame who walks into the office with long legs and a dark secret?"

Rachel leaned back and laughed out loud, and Chloe joined her. "It's good that you're thinking about the future. I think we've both been stuck in the past for way too long."

"Yeah." She peered through the binoculars again. "But I don't want to be part of any future that doesn't involve you."

"Me either."


	21. Don't Let the Sun Go Down On Me

**Chapter Twenty One**  
Don't Let the Sun Go Down On Me

"Hey," Warren greeted the moment Max emerged from Mr. Jefferson's class, leaning up against the door leading into the science lab. "How'd it go?"

"I made it through, somehow," she replied, and he came to her side as she walked further down the hall. "How was Chem?"

"Ms. Grant's still out sick, so we just got to work through a few experiments," he answered, scratching the back of his head. "I hope she's doing okay. No one's really sure why, but she wasn't here yesterday either."

"I hope she's okay too."

From her peripheral, she saw Kate rush quickly past them, with Brooke, Stella, and Alyssa keeping a safe distance behind her. Victoria and Taylor had gone off in the opposite direction. The tension between them wasn't lost on Max, but she had more important things to concern herself with right now.

"So did Brooke say anything to you yet?"

Warren shook his head. "It's probably not the best idea to invite her to game night. Might be a little awkward."

"More than a little." She narrowed her eyes. "I think I figured out what that phone call yesterday was about."

"The one in the bathroom?"

Max nodded. "Victoria's Facebook got totally trashed this morning, and there's a rumor spreading about her being in love with Kate. I don't remember Brooke having Jefferson's class this period, either. I think she might have just been in there to gloat."

"You're sure she's the one who started that rumor?"

By this point they had reached the larger hall, and started heading for the exit doors. "I can't be positive. You know her better than me. Is she really that petty?"

"Probably petty enough to go along with the rumor," he admitted, shrugging. "But I can't be any more sure she started it than you are. I can definitely see her doing the Facebook hack, though."

Max sighed. "Proving once again that the only difference between nerds and popular kids is the persecution complex. There's still the same bullshit drama and gossiping, only it's all dressed up in quirky pop culture references and weird hair."

"You're starting to sound more like Chloe, you know."

She laughed. "Is that a bad thing?"

"Nah. She's cool as hell. So are you."

"Thanks, Warren. I actually really needed to hear that."

The double doors parted, and they walked further into the courtyard. Max froze in her tracks when she saw, standing in front of the fountain, arms crossed, David Madsen staring at her with a grave expression on his face. Warren kept walking forward a couple of steps before he caught on, angling himself protectively in front of her.

"Max Caulfield," said David, still staring at her. "Can I talk to you for a minute?"

Warren looked back at her over his shoulder, raising an eyebrow as if to ask what he should do. After a moment, Max nodded to him and gestured towards the dorms with her head.

"It's fine. I'll meet up with you later, Warren."

"Okay. Just call me if you need anything, alright?"

She smirked. "I'll be sure to do just that."

He walked away, and David waited until he was gone to move closer to her. He stayed far enough away that he didn't tower over her, helped somewhat by the icy glare she was sending his way, arms folded over her chest.

"Do you need something from me, Mr. Madsen?"

He squinted at her, examining her carefully. She remained resolute.

"I just want to know if you've seen Chloe. A few students said they saw the two of you in front of this fountain earlier."

"Sounds like you already know the answer, then." Her glower intensified. "Why do you want to find her, anyway? So you can check out the black eye you gave her?"

David scratched the back of his neck, and his eyes traveled skyward as he turned his face away. "She told you what happened, huh?"

"No shit. She doesn't want to be anywhere near you after last night."

His frown transmuted into a scowl, and he stared hard at her. "Max, you have to understand. Things got out of hand last night, but I do love Chloe, like my own daughter. I just want to make sure she's safe."

"Is that why you hit her? So you can keep her safe?"

"It's not like that. Now I'll admit she said a few things that got under my skin, but…"

"I don't care what she said! You're an adult! You should know better! There's nothing she could have said or done to you that would justify you hitting her!"

By this point their conversation was turning a few heads, but neither of them cared. Most of the expressions that she caught seemed to be a mixture of confusion and awe, with just a hint of admiration. There was a time when Max wouldn't have thought it possible to stand her ground against the school's biggest bully. But that was before she learned that there were much scarier things in life than a security guard with control issues.

"You know, I actually tried defending you to her," she continued. "I thought that underneath all that macho, fascist bullshit, you had a good heart. And maybe you still do. But that doesn't matter if you're just going to keep abusing her."

"Damn it, I know all that!" he shouted. "I'm trying to find her so I can apologize!"

"I don't think she wants to hear your apology right now," said Max, pivoting her torso to the side with her arms crossed, keeping her glare focused on him. "I know for a fact this isn't the first time it's happened, either. Did you say you were sorry all those other times too?"

He turned his face to the side, away from her. "Look, Max. I know you're probably closer with Chloe than anybody else, maybe even closer than Rachel. But there are things you don't understand about our family."

She chuckled darkly. "Chloe doesn't think of you as family. I'm good enough friends with her to know that. To her you're just an intruder, sticking your nose where it doesn't belong. A step-douche."

"You think I haven't tried reaching out to her? I've told her time and again, I want us to be family. I'm not aiming to replace her father, and I know how hard it can be to lose someone you love. I went through that in Afghanistan, and ever since I got back, things just… haven't been the same."

"That's no excuse to be treating Chloe the way you have. Three years is more than enough time to seek out help, but you think bottling it all up and enduring it makes you a better man. I don't think I'll ever understand what you went through in Afghanistan. But I've been through hell too. And so has Chloe. Like you wouldn't believe."

The anger left him with a sigh, and he looked at her morosely. "I know. I see a lot of myself in her, believe it or not. I guess that's why I want to see her do better for herself than… whatever her life is now."

"Well this isn't the way to go about it," she replied, keeping her arms crossed. "If you really want to apologize, you should help find out who really put that weed in Rachel's locker. Did you ever actually believe it was hers?"

"What _I_ think doesn't matter," he said, shifting quickly to a stern, closed-off demeanor, as if realizing that he'd let too much of his humanity show. "This is an official investigation now, and you kids need to stay out of it. At this point anything you do is as liable to hinder the truth from coming out as it is to help."

"Give me one good reason why I should trust anybody in charge at this school. Wells is just a drunk who bends over backwards for the Prescotts and lets Nathan get away with anything. You say you care about our safety, but have you even noticed what's been happening with Kate Marsh? Or Victoria Chase? Because it's more than just your standard teenage girl drama, believe me."

Craning his neck back, he narrowed his eyes. "What do you mean?"

"Just that you should be more concerned with whoever's drugging girls at Vortex Club parties than a bag of weed that was obviously planted by someone who wanted Rachel to get suspended for some reason."

She couldn't tell him the truth about Jefferson. Not after he'd just given her every conceivable indication that he wouldn't believe her. She needed proof, and she wasn't likely to find it at any point during this conversation. But maybe she could point his paranoia in the right direction for once.

"Max," he said with great effort, shaking his head. "That's an awful serious allegation you're making."

"And I'm dead serious. What is it about me that causes all of you think I'm making this shit up?"

"That's not what I—" He took a deep breath, lowered his voice, and continued. "That's not what I mean. The incidents you're referring to _are_ being looked into, I promise. I know you feel like you're invincible at your age, that you can solve all the world's problems, but there are some things you should leave to the adults."

"I _don't_ feel invincible," she revealed. "I feel so fucking unsafe it makes me _actually_ feel sick. And Chloe hides it pretty well, but she does too. So whether you like it or not, we're doing something about it."

"You have to understand," he replied. "Part of growing up is knowing your limits, and realizing when you're in over your head. I don't want to see any of you get hurt, Max. And that's not just because it's my job to keep you safe."

She huffed, shaking her head. He had no idea what her limits were.

"Whatever. Can I go now?"

He nodded, and she walked away without saying another word.

* * *

On afternoons like this, when the sunset stained the sky a warm shade of amber, Kate liked to sit by the picnic tables and draw. Recent events hadn't afforded her many opportunities to do so, and for a while she sought comfort in total darkness, confident that no one could see her suffering. But she had been wrong about that. And now that she had been reminded that there were people who cared, she started to return to her old habits.

Her mouth curled downward into a frown as she considered the events of the morning. Stella, Brooke, and Alyssa were her friends, but only in the sense that they shared a few of the same interests and hung out sometimes. They didn't really engage with her on a deeper level like Max or Rachel. Or Victoria.

None of the individuals in question were in sight save for Max, who walked past her on her way to the dorms, not even looking her way. Kate didn't try to grab her attention, having witnessed the tail end of what looked like a heated argument between her and Mr. Madsen. Shaking her head, she returned to her work. Max was braver than she could ever hope to be, but it all seemed to take such a toll on her, as if she carried the weight of the world on her shoulders and didn't know how to shrug it off.

Victoria at least seemed to be making progress, and was no longer running from whatever this burgeoning friendship between them was. Maybe there was hope for her yet.

She was halfway through a drawing of a theme-park made of marshmallows and other assorted candies when she caught flashes of a red jacket in her peripheral, and someone else sat down at the table. Looking up, she saw Nathan Prescott sitting across from her.

"Uh… hi, Nathan."

"Hey."

A few uncomfortable seconds passed before she mustered up the courage to speak again. "Can I help you with something?"

He glanced to each side to make sure there were no prying ears, then leaned in closer. "It's about yesterday. What you and Victoria told me about what happened at the Vortex Club parties. I might have a lead."

Her fingers tightened around the colored pencil she was holding, and Kate stared at him with narrowed eyes. "What kind of lead?"

"Do you know who Frank Bowers is?"

Kate nodded. "He's a drug dealer. Max thinks he might have been the one who supplied the weed that got put in Rachel's locker."

"Figures she would have told you about that."

"Are you saying he's the one who drugged me and Victoria?"

Nathan shook his head. "No. But he definitely sold it to whoever did." He pulled out a small notebook. "And I have something that might tell us who."

Splaying it out over the table, he turned it so that she could read what was on the page. She saw a ledger of drugs that were sold, along with dollar amounts. She squinted when she saw the column denoting who the drugs were sold to.

"It's just a bunch of dog names."

"Codenames," Nathan explained, producing another scrap of paper. "I have the client list right here. Beagle is Justin Williams, Bulldog is Chloe Price, and it looks like Chihuahua is you."

Kate reared back in shock, not sure how to react to that. "What?"

He showed her the paper. "It says 'Katie' right next to it."

"Must be some other girl. I don't buy drugs."

Nathan shrugged. "Whatever. Here's the important one. Look at Dachsund."

"Where did you get all this?"

"Rachel. Did Max tell you she used to work for Frank?"

Kate nodded. "That doesn't explain how you know all this."

"I'm getting to that, trust me. Look at the record for Dachsund on October First and Fifth."

Squinting, she went through the ledger. "Ninety dollars for twenty-four milligrams of hydromorphone on the First, seventy-five dollars on the Fifth for benzodiazepine and one gram of speed." She looked up. "I don't get it. What do those drugs do?"

"Hydromorphone is an opiate," he replied. "And benzodiazepine is used as a sedative and muscle relaxer. A high enough dose can also cause amnesia. And before you ask how I know that, I've been on a _lot_ of medication in my life. It helps to know what it all does."

"So who's Dachsund?"

He handed her the client list. Her eyes widened when she read the name.

"Stella?"

Nathan stared at her gravely.

"But… how? _Why_?"

"She was the coat checker at both parties," he answered. "That's means and opportunity. As for motive, just look what happened to Vic's Facebook today. I also heard what went down in Jefferson's classroom. Hell, I wouldn't be surprised if she was the one who planted the weed in Rachel's locker."

The events of that morning played over again in Kate's mind, and every path led back to the "intervention" that Brooke, Stella, and Alyssa had attempted in the hall. It was no secret that none of them were fans of the popular kids. Could it actually be true?

"Why me, though? She's my friend."

Nathan shrugged. "She could have been trying to get Victoria at the first party and drugged you by mistake. Or she might not have approved of you being at that party in the first place because she felt like you didn't belong there. Turns out you can be pretty cool when you want to, though. If what Victoria says is true."

Kate suddenly felt a powerful urge to disappear back into the darkness that had been her escape when her whole life got turned upside down before. But she breathed deeply, reminding herself that God was there for her, and so were her friends. Which, she supposed, now included Nathan.

"I never thanked you before," she said quietly, staring at the table. "For getting me home safe."

"Don't worry about it." Retrieving the ledger, he stopped to look at the papers that were scattered over the table. "Are those your drawings? They look nice."

The corners of her mouth tugged upwards into a smile. "Thanks. I'm finally getting back into it after… everything."

"That's good to hear."

"So what's going to happen with Stella? Are you going to tell the Principal or Mr. Madsen?"

"Once we have enough proof, yeah. But with me backing you up, they'll have to listen."

She bobbed her head up and down for a few seconds as she processed that. "Good."

Kate went back to drawing, and Nathan sat there quietly.

* * *

Wiping down the hard wooden counter of the bar with a towel that already sported its fair share of stains, Samantha Black Elk soaked up a puddle of whiskey before sliding fragments of shattered glass into a waiting trash bin. The trucker in front of her wasn't even sorry, waiting irritably for his next round. But he knew better than to mouth off.

"That one's going on your tab," she declared after shaking out the rag to remove the final shards of glass, then retrieved another glass and filled it. "Be careful this time."

"Yeah, yeah."

The door opened, and the final bits of fading sunlight framed two figures in silhouette as they passed through the doorway. As they moved closer she could see the cheap suits hiding the sticks up their asses. The woman was dark-skinned with curly hair, while the man next to her was shaved completely bald, tucking his sunglasses into his breast pocket. They each produced a badge, holding them up for her to see.

She stood there, arms crossed, unimpressed. "So I guess you're done spying from a distance, then."

The trucker stood up and moved further down the bar, wisely deciding not to get in the middle of this. The woman stepped closer, tucking her badge away. "Special Agent Maria Acevedo, FBI. This is Special Agent Jerome Bryant. We need to ask you a few questions."

"Ask away. Just don't expect answers."

Maria smirked, letting out a small chuckle. "Can you account for your whereabouts last night between the hours of eight and eleven o'clock pm?"

"Sounds like you already know."

Producing her phone, the FBI agent held it up for her to see. It showed Sam leaning against a chain link fence, taking a drag on a cigarette. Fortunately, the picture appeared to have been taken before company had arrived.

"This was taken around nine o'clock last night," she explained. "From what we understand, you were casing the building across the street, which carries a wide variety of farming supplies, including industrial fertilizer."

Sam's eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly.

"Ten bags of fertilizer containing ammonium nitrate were stolen last night," said Special Agent Bryant. "Along with a few gallons of diesel fuel from a trucking depot on the outskirts of town. You don't need me to tell you what those two things combine to make, do you?"

She remained stone-faced, allowing them to spin whatever tale they'd come up with, but didn't respond. No use adding more fuel to the fire.

"When certain members belonging to the Organization for Protecting the Environment Now were arrested, the explosive device they planned on detonating was made of ANFO," said Maria. "And now we've got you standing across the street from a building where the active ingredient for that sort of explosive was stolen."

"Am I under arrest?"

"That depends." Special Agent Acevedo crossed her arms. "Do you have a better explanation for what happened?"

"Let's start with the car that was there," she replied, reaching under the counter and retrieving a folder that she'd been keeping for when this inevitably came up. "I've got pictures, plates, DMV records, all there. If you run all of it you won't be able to tie it to me or anybody else I know."

Maria took a step back, clearly surprised. "Why would you collect all this?"

"Because you're not the only one interested in what's going on in Arcadia Bay," she answered. "We got a tip from a source saying someone was gonna move on the fertilizer in that place last night, so I staked it out. Figured you'd blame us anyway if it went missing."

"That's a nice story. But how do I know you weren't just the lookout?"

"Why don't you ask whoever took that photo of me? I know for a fact there weren't any surveillance cameras."

"We don't betray our informants, Miss Black Elk."

"Like I give a shit who you duped into working for you. Your case isn't strong enough to hold up in court and you know it, which is why you're trying to spook me instead of just slapping on the handcuffs. That's the same reason you went after Chloe Price."

Neither of them could stop their eyes from widening a hair in response to that.

"What, did you think we weren't keeping tabs on her too? You can do better than that punk, believe me."

Special Agent Bryant crossed his arms. "It sounds like you're admitting that your organization is involved in more than environmental protesting."

"So is fucking Greenpeace; go hassle them. The Second Amendment is about more than private gun ownership. It also guarantees the right to form militias, when the local government isn't doing enough to protect people. Everyone knows what your agency did with COINTELPRO, so you can't blame us for keeping an eye on new faces."

"We _can_ blame you when some of your members get arrested trying to plant a bomb, then the materials for making another one go missing," said Maria. "Militias are only allowed when they're well-regulated, and certainly not when they conspire to commit acts of domestic terrorism."

"I think you'll find that, from a legal standpoint, the actions and beliefs of those individuals don't represent the positions of the leadership of the Organization for Protecting the Environment Now," Sam rattled off with practiced ease. "The bomb was their idea, and neither I nor my grandfather had any foreknowledge that they were building it, much less that they planned to use it. They were an extremist faction who have since been cut off from the organization."

"Then why were you standing right across the street from that building last night?"

She scowled and leaned forward. "I'm afraid if you want to continue this line of questioning, it'll have to be with an attorney present. So either bring me in or get the hell out of my bar."

Chuckling softly, Special Agent Acevedo turned around, and her partner followed. The door opened, revealing for a moment that the sun had finally disappeared below the horizon. "Have a good night, Miss Black Elk."

She resumed wiping down the bar.


	22. Stage Fright

**Chapter Twenty Two  
** Stage Fright

"So does Steph ever actually leave this place?" asked Max as they made their way once more across the strip mall parking lot. Warren's car honked briefly behind them as he remotely locked it with a button on his keys. The Arcadia Bay Center for the Performing Arts loomed in front of them, the sun having passed behind it already, framing it in shadow.

"I heard she has her own place somewhere in town," he replied. "But it's not really big enough to host a game. Home ownership just isn't in the cards for most of our generation."

"Fair enough. It's just I could have sworn she invited us there instead of here. Did things change last minute?"

"I guess so. She sent a text to the group this morning saying we're supposed to meet here."

"Must have missed that. This week has been so fucking insane."

"Yeah, I can't imagine having to deal with all that bullshit. Maybe this'll help take your mind off of it for a few hours."

Max shook her head. "If only. We're also here for intel, remember? One of them must know what Eliot's really up to."

"I've always gotten a weird vibe from Eliot," he admitted. "Most of the interactions I had with him were arguing about nerdy shit online, but I got a look at his art once when we had a class together. He's talented, but also… obsessed. Like he craves control over his subject."

Squinting, she craned her head back and squinted at him, impressed. "Look at you. Science whiz and art critic, all in one."

"They're two sides of the same coin," he said. "Science helps us understand the world around us. Art helps us communicate how we feel about it. I don't see why they should have to compete with each other."

"I'm really glad I brought you on board, Warren. There's not a lot of people I can trust with my secret, but you're definitely one of them."

He grinned. "I'm glad too. And thanks. For trusting me."

"You're welcome."

They made their way to the door, travelling down the long, starkly lit corridor whose off-white paint was just sickly enough to be concerning. Passing through the double doors into the main auditorium, they saw Steph had been keeping herself busy, having not only set up a gaming table on the main stage, but also decorating the surrounding space with various props. Max was impressed by the attention to detail, and the clear passion that lingered in her work, clearly visible even after she'd moved on to other tasks. Like a signature.

"I guess that answers why she wanted to have it here."

"You like it?" asked Steph, walking out from behind the curtains. "Hang on, I'll be right there."

She was wearing a black beanie with gold trim, as well as a deep forest green flannel with hints of ochre. The midnight black tee-shirt she wore underneath said 'Carpe DM' in bold white text across the chest. The dragon necklace around her neck was still there from the last time Max had seen her, but the whole ensemble seemed like it was chosen for a more special occasion. Which, she supposed, this technically was.

They walked further into the auditorium as she jogged over to the tech booth, retrieving a small stack of papers. Walking calmly down to join them, she handed the paper to Max, who flipped through them quickly, discovering a stream of numbers that stretched on for a worrying distance.

Warren glanced over them as well. "Server logs?"

Nodding, Steph folded her arms over her chest. "I backdated it to last week because there's really no way to tell when the login data was compromised, if it was at all. And like I said, it's only part of the puzzle. Now you need to find out who all these Device IDs belong to."

"Chloe wanted to take this to the two FBI agents who picked her up yesterday," said Max. "But I don't see how that ends well."

"Chloe got picked up by the feds? Why?"

"Long story. Short version is Rachel used to work for a local drug dealer as well as his supplier, and they wanted Chloe to be an informant. She said no, obviously, but to be fair they do have the resources to track where the login came from."

"Wait, hold up. Rachel worked for a _drug dealer_?"

Max nodded. "Frank Bowers. She and Chloe took out a loan from him six months ago too. He's our other lead."

"I hate to even think this, but are you absolutely sure Rachel's being set up?"

"She stopped working for him six months ago, and her job was just to run messages between him and his supplier that were too sensitive for phones or email. Aside from which, Rachel's too smart to keep a stash that big in her school locker."

"I guess you're right. Still, that doesn't help her case."

"Don't remind me." She scratched the back of her head, then deposited the papers in her bag. "Thank you for this, Steph."

"No problem. I'm not sure how much it'll actually help, but it sounds like you've got other avenues you can explore. In the meantime, welcome to game night. Mikey and Drew will be here later; you two actually showed up like thirty minutes early."

"Didn't exactly want to hang around Blackwell after the week I've had," Max admitted, and Warren nodded in agreement next to her. "Do you need help setting up?"

"Please, I had everything ready two hours ago. But this'll give us a chance to go over the rules a bit. Have you played a tabletop game before?"

They followed her onto the stage, and Steph took her seat at the head of the table, behind a screen that separated her from the rest of the table, where a curtain obscured most of what Max could only presume was a map of some sort.

"I had a _World of Warcraft_ account. And I've played a few _Final Fantasy_ games. But I've never done it with pen and paper."

"It's the same basic concept. Video games can trace most of their origins to tabletop RPGs. Except instead of fancy graphics and dialogue trees, all you need is some dice and your imagination. I guarantee you, tabletop lets you do stuff you could never dream of in a video game."

"What system are we playing?" asked Warren as they sat down next to each other, across from Steph. "Not 4E I hope."

Max squinted with one eye. "4E?"

" _Dungeons and Dragons_ Fourth Edition," Steph elaborated. "And fuck no. I get that they were trying to streamline how unwieldy Third Edition could be at higher levels, but that Powers system is bullshit. We're playing a homebrew system I developed with Mikey. We can go over the rules while we're waiting on him and Drew to get here."

"Uh, okay. That sounds fun. When do I get to make a character?"

"Right the hell now," she said, whipping out a piece of paper that looked troublingly similar to some sort of tax form. Upon closer inspection, Max recognized it as a character sheet. "Any preference on race or class?"

"What are the options?"

"Well, you've got your humans, elves, and dwarves, plus gnomes, halflings, and half-orcs. But I allow monstrous races too. If you can imagine it, you can play it."

"I'll stick with the basics for now," she said. "I've always wanted to play a dwarf."

"Is that because you're short?" asked Warren, and she socked him in the shoulder. He rubbed it, staring at her slightly in awe. "Ow. Nice swing. You hit hard."

"Thanks."

"Okay, that's out of the way. Now what do you want your character to be good at? How do they deal with their problems?"

She squinted, considering that, and stroked her chin. "I don't really want to be a killing machine. That's not what I play games for. Maybe I could do some magic?"

"You could try a Cleric. Every group needs a healer."

Max chuckled. "I don't think I'd be good at playing a character like that. I'm not really religious."

"Bards and Rangers get some healing spells too," said Warren. He turned to Steph. "At least I assume they do."

Steph nodded. "And it's okay if your character isn't exactly like you. That's part of the fun of roleplaying."

"I guess. Is there like a book or something I can look at?"

"Not an official one, but I have it on my laptop. Let me print it off for you and we can figure it out from there."

"I might need that too," said Warren. "Kinda hard to build a character when you don't know all the rules."

She smiled, standing up and moving towards the tech booth. "Then I'll be right back."

* * *

"Now remember, David, regardless of what's going on at Blackwell, the Ambers have invited us to dinner as friends," said Joyce as she walked up the brick pathway, purse slung over her right shoulder. David marched slightly ahead, but still kept his eyes trained on her as she spoke to him. "That means no shop talk, and no throwing accusations around. I'd like to get through one damn meal without things turning into an episode of _Jerry Springer_."

He groaned as quietly as he could. "You're worrying over nothing, Joyce. Besides, I didn't instigate anything last night."

"You sure about that? You laid hands on Chloe first. Doesn't make a difference what she said to rile you up. You're an adult and you oughtta know better."

"I know," he replied, sounding wearier than she would have expected, like she wasn't the first person to tell him that. "I was looking for her earlier so I could apologize, but she doesn't want to be found right now." He straightened his back and continued walking forward. "But I promise it won't have any impact on tonight."

"Good. Because if you can't work out your issues on your own I _will_ find us a family counselor."

They arrived at the ornate stained-glass double doors at the end of the path, and Joyce pushed the doorbell with her index finger until she heard the chimes from inside the house. Roughly ten seconds later, the door opened and Rose Amber welcomed them inside.

"Joyce, it's so good to see you!" she said as they briefly hugged. "And David, always a pleasure."

Inclining his head forward, he mustered a faint smile. "Ma'am."

"Well, make yourselves at home. James is just finishing up in his office, then he'll be right out. You two want anything to drink? We have a few wines to choose from, and there's a pack of beer in the fridge as well."

"That sounds lovely," said Joyce. "But let's start with water for me. How 'bout you, honey?"

"Beer sounds good," he said politely. Rose gestured over to the living room seating, and they sat down next to each other on the couch. Rose returned with their drinks, and he smiled again. "Thank you, ma'am."

"Please, call me Rose."

He nodded, and Joyce accepted the glass of water. "Thank you, Rose. You need any help in the kitchen?"

A good-natured smirk appeared on her face. "Don't you dare. I promised you a night off from cooking and I aim to keep it. Besides, I'm just keeping it all warm in the oven at this point."

"Well sit on down, then. What have you been up to all day?"

"Preparing for this, mostly," she answered, continuing to stand, since the nearest chair was too far away for polite conversation and she presumably didn't fee like squeezing between them on the couch. "James has been in his office since he got home and Rachel left earlier without saying goodbye, so I had plenty of time by myself to make dinner. But hey, you're here now."

Joyce leaned her head back, concerned. "Rachel say where she was going?"

"Not really, but I saw Chloe's truck out front. They're probably in one of their usual hangout spots."

Next to her, David chuckled in a way that indicated he was holding back some sly remark based on what she'd told him earlier. At least he was able to restrain himself.

"You're wondering why she isn't grounded, right?" asked Rose, surprising both of them with her perceptiveness. "That was James' decision. Rachel's always been… driven. I'm sure you both know what a strong-willed daughter is like. They'll escape any trap you set. Besides, we don't have all the facts yet. Personally I think even if she was involved in all that she'd have more sense than to keep it all in one place."

Joyce sputtered but didn't choke on the water she'd been attempting to drink. David raised a very skeptical eyebrow.

"That was a joke."

The laughter that emerged from David was incredibly forced, but served well enough as a transition to other topics.

"So what's your husband been workin' on all afternoon?" asked Joyce after enough of a pause had smoothed out the awkwardness. "Or is that confidential?"

Rose shrugged. "I don't really talk shop with James. It's not that I can't keep up with all the legal talk—we just found it makes for a better marriage if you don't bring work home with you." She glanced over to the office. "Or at least keep it in one room."

"I agree with you there, sister."

David forced a smile, and said nothing.

"So how are things going with Chloe? Is she doing alright?"

They sent an awkward glance towards each other, then looked away. Rose quirked her lips to the side, reading the tension on their faces. As a small town diner waitress, Joyce had always excelled at small talk, but now that the conversation turned more personal, she struggled with how much to reveal to a woman who, while they got along well enough, wasn't really as close to her as both of their daughters were to each other.

"It's alright, you don't have to answer. Your family is your business."

"Thank you," said Joyce, downing the rest of her water. "I think I'm ready for somethin' stronger now."

Rose laughed. "Coming right up."

* * *

"So there's something I'm curious about," said Max, after they were mostly finished with character creation. "What was Eliot doing in here yesterday? Did he just show up with Drew and Mikey?"

"Pretty much. I never really knew him that well when I went to Blackwell, but he seems like a nice enough guy. Why do you ask?"

"Chloe's not the only one I lost touch with when I moved to Seattle five years ago," she answered. "Has he always been friends with Drew?"

"They both played sports, but never the same ones. Eliot was always more of a Prep than a Jock. From what I know they weren't that close. They just ran in a few of the same circles."

"So why are they back in town at the same time?"

"You got me. They mostly came by here to catch up on old times. Eliot didn't say much, just that he had some business here in town."

"Do you know who he might have business with?" asked Warren. "And why Drew's involved?"

Squinting, Steph craned her head back. "Why are you so interested?"

"We think he might have had something to do with what happened to Rachel," said Max, laying her cards on the table. "Planting weed in her locker exposes Blackwell to a huge scandal, and it's timed perfectly to affect her dad's reelection. And after what happened three years ago, it makes sense that he'd want revenge."

"Okay, but Drew wouldn't want anything to do with that shit. Especially because of what happened to _him_ three years ago."

"You mean when he broke his knee?"

Steph nodded. "He used to work for a drug dealer too. Damon Merrick. Drew's father lost his job at the docks when Sean Prescott closed them down, and he skimmed money to try and help. But Damon came to collect, and…"

Their eyes went wide. Max's more than Warren's.

"I dropped everything and helped Mikey get him to the hospital, even though I was supposed to be working lights for Blackwell's production of _The Tempest_ that night. It's a shame, too. Apparently Chloe had to step in and play Ariel because Juliet was late. I heard Rachel basically proposed to her on stage."

"Holy shit."

"My point is, I'm not really sure how Eliot feels about Rachel, but I know Drew doesn't have any hard feelings towards her. And Mikey definitely thinks she's cool. I had a crush on her myself for a while, but everybody does at some point."

Blushing, Max turned her face away.

"You know Drew better than we do," said Warren. "Can you at least ask? We're just trying to check off all the boxes. I'm sure he'd never do anything to hurt Rachel."

"If it's for Rachel's sake then sure, I'll ask. But you might be disappointed in the answer."

"That's okay," said Max. "I'm sure we'll figure out this mystery eventually. I just hope it's not too late."

Steph turned somber for a moment, staring at the table. "Me too, Max. Me too."

* * *

"Still nothing," said Chloe, lowering the binoculars and taking another bite of the granola bar that Rachel had passed her a few minutes ago. It was one of those 'healthy' ones that tasted like it had been made by aliens who had only vaguely heard of dirt. Still, it kept her busy during the lulls in their conversation. "Stakeouts always seem so much cooler in the movies."

"Well, there _are_ things we can do parked in the woods in the middle of the night…" the other girl replied, stroking Chloe's thigh. She quivered slightly, then compensated by sending a wry smirk Rachel's way.

"And end up impaled by a dude in a hockey mask? I think not. Besides, something interesting _could_ happen down there, and I don't wanna miss it after all this build-up."

Rachel grinned impishly, then shoved Chloe's shoulder with both hands, forcefully enough that her head hit the window, resulting in a small bit of noise but no pain. She pushed back, and this tug-of-war continued until she had pinned Rachel down, at which point the other girl leaned up and kissed her.

Relaxing, Chloe submitted to the kiss as their knuckles tapped the passenger's side window, hands clasped together above their heads. Rachel's tongue was thrust into her mouth, bringing with it all manner of new sensations. Chloe struck back, shifting her body weight around until her knees were planted firmly on the seat, though she and Rachel were still a scattered pile of limbs.

The cabin wasn't big enough for the two of them. They were cramped, tangled, and moving around was complicated, but none of that mattered. Freeing her left hand from Chloe's grasp, Rachel began to slide it up her shirt, cupping her right breast. As she hooked her thumb inside the bra and began to pull it down, Chloe's reaction was not what either of them expected.

Reeling back, she clasped her arms protectively around her chest, staring at Rachel while rushing blood turned her cheeks a bright shade of scarlet. Squinting with one eye, Rachel sat up as well. "Is something wrong?"

"No, I—" Speaking was suddenly difficult, what with the way her whole body was trying to escape to Mars without a rocket. "This just isn't the way I wanted our first time to be."

She raised an eyebrow. "First time, huh?"

The blush grew more intense, and Chloe grimaced while digging the heel of her palm into her forehead. "Sorry. Did I read that totally wrong, or were you actually trying to...? I mean, showering with you is one thing, but…"

A giggle escaped from Rachel, who tucked a few stray hairs back under her beanie. "Don't worry about it, Chloe. You don't have to do anything you're not ready for."

The sigh of relief that left her came as a surprise. This was what she wanted, right? Sex with Rachel Amber, the girl who set her world on fire. Everyone at Blackwell would kill to be in her position right now. But something didn't feel right.

"Thanks. It just caught me off guard, is all. I don't want it to be sudden like that."

She chuckled. "Good to know. I'll make sure and leave plenty of time for foreplay when you _are_ ready."

"You mean I didn't totally blow it just now?"

Rachel shook her head. "How long have we known each other, Chloe?" She gestured with both hands towards her body. "You think I'm gonna cut you off from all of this forever just because you need some time to adjust? The last thing I want to do is pressure you."

"Well that's a relief." She slid down the driver's seat until she could barely see over the dashboard. "Believe me, I _do_ want to get there eventually. It's just… we've only been official for like two days." She laughed. "I can only imagine how long Max is gonna take."

"Who knows? Apparently she made it all the way with you in another timeline. The only reason she wouldn't kiss me on Saturday was because she thought it would hurt you."

Chloe couldn't stop herself from smiling goofily at that.

"Seriously though, take as long as you need, Chloe. There's nothing wrong with wanting everything to be perfect."

A dark smirk made its way onto her face. "Since when has anything ever gone perfect for us?"

"First time for everything." She leaned over, bumping Chloe's shoulder with her own. "Pun intended."

"It wouldn't be _my_ first time," she clarified. "I just want _our_ first time to be special."

"Oh? And who _did_ have the honor of taking your flower?"

Her face twisted into a dark scowl. "Eliot."

Blinking, Rachel sat up straighter. "Seriously? Eliot Hampden, the guy who followed you into my house three years ago and tried to lock you in there with him? That Eliot?"

Chloe nodded. "We were fourteen. Got back from a concert all sweaty, and his parents weren't home. My idea. He gave it his best try, but he got like two minutes in before he came and I hadn't felt a goddamn thing. We didn't try again after that."

"Damn. It sucks that you didn't get yours."

"Oh I did, just with a shower nozzle instead."

A squeal of unrestrained laughter exploded out of Rachel's mouth, and she leaned back, clutching her stomach. "Holy shit."

"He's back in town, you know. Max and I ran into him while we were chasing down that lead yesterday. Drew's back too, and I think they're working on something together. Max has him on the wall of suspects for the locker thing, but I think it's more than that. He really fucking hates you, but I have no idea why. What did you ever do to him?"

Rachel shrugged. "No idea. I don't think I ever really talked to him."

"Well I think I need to see a therapist, because the bullshit he tried to sell me in your dad's office three years ago is exactly what Sera told me in my dream."

"Oh yeah? Like what?"

"That I shouldn't trust you. That you're 'manipulating' me. That you don't care if you hurt me as long as you get what you want. Like I said, bullshit."

"Chloe, I'd never set out to hurt you. I mean sure, I play drama games and I have this weird pull over everybody, but it's not like I asked to be popular. The reason I love you so much is because you never put on an act around me. That's what inspired me to stop pretending everything was going well in my life, when inside I was dying. Meeting you changed my life."

Chloe's eyes narrowed as she stared straight ahead, down towards the still lit auto shop. "Same here. In one of my dreams that weekend, my dad tried to warn me off you too. He told me: 'Fire is jealous. It wants all the beauty for itself.' But I think that was just my own fears talking back to me. I think I _was_ afraid that you were just using me, that you didn't actually care."

She chuckled darkly. "It wasn't until Eliot tried to convince me you were the devil that I realized I was just afraid of letting myself actually get attached to someone. Everyone else in my life had either died, or left for Seattle, or found a new dickhead boyfriend. I was worried things between us would end just as shitty."

"They almost did," Rachel pointed out. "God, it still gives me shivers just thinking about it."

"You ever stop and wonder what we did to deserve all the shit that's been thrown our way? Does someone up there just hate us?"

"I'm not sure. But at least now we have the power to fight back."

"You got that right."

They resumed sitting there in silence, passing the binoculars back and forth.


	23. Feather Moon

**Chapter Twenty Three  
** Feather Moon

"He in there?"

Thunder, the Samoan bouncer turned guard, nodded briefly before stepping aside to allow Samantha Black Elk inside the large tent. She found the man she was looking for standing over the large table in the center, holding a pen and scratching his chin. He nodded briefly to acknowledge her, and she moved closer.

"Do you have news?"

"Depends what you mean. Those two suits that showed up in town last week finally got the guts to walk into my bar and accuse me of stealing bomb ingredients."

"Did they follow you here?"

Sam shook her head, pivoting in a full circle as she ambled closer to the table. "I swept the car for tracking devices, and they weren't even interested in tailing me. Guess they just wanted to spook me."

A smirk slowly crawled across his face, and he leaned down, marking something on a map. "I suspect there is a larger agenda at work, one not yet revealed. We've chipped away at it slowly, but it takes time for a statue to be revealed from within the stone."

"Well I don't think they're in charge of this investigation, I'll tell you that much. Gotta be somebody pulling their strings."

Joseph Black Elk nodded. "Is that all you came to tell me?"

"Not even close. There's another problem, at Blackwell. The science teacher is missing."

That got him to make eye contact with her, and he showed a look of mild concern.

"She hasn't shown up at school since Monday, and she hasn't arranged a sub or filed for any sort of leave. I had her home checked, along with her relatives. Her moped is still there, so she didn't drive anywhere. It's like she just disappeared."

"Any signs of foul play?"

"None. No sign of a struggle at the house, police haven't heard anything either. She's not officially a missing person yet, but nobody has any idea where she is." She crossed her arms, looking back over her shoulder. "You think someone figured out who she really works for? Who she really is?"

"Like you said, there's no evidence that anyone kidnapped her," he replied. "But there's no need to make a public spectacle of this. Have your contact in the department investigate it quietly, without declaring her a missing person."

She nodded. "Will do."

"One more thing. What were you able to dig up on Major Lucas Hampden?"

"Sad story, really." Sam shrugged and began to pace. "The guy up and left ten years ago, then the next time he pops up he's found in an apartment in Chicago with a pistol in his hand and his brains all over the floor. His service record's mostly classified, but he was attached to Operation Charybdis as a liaison starting in '93. Left behind a wife and son."

"Hm." He nodded, considering that. "And from what I understand, his son is back in town."

"Eliot. Don't know too much about him, except that he's been in Portland the last three years with his mother. He's been seen around town with Drew North, who ran Oxy for us until three years ago when Damon broke his knee."

"Any connection between them?"

"They both went to see Bradshaw yesterday. If he's involved then anything is possible."

"Indeed. Keep an eye on them."

"Sure thing. Anything else?"

"That's it for now. Contact me if you learn anything else."

"Yes Sir." With that, she turned on her heel and left the tent.

* * *

"There," said Victoria, giving one final click on her mouse before leaning back and sighing in relief. "Fucking finally."

A pair of knocks sounded through the door, and she looked to the ceiling, not in any mood to get up.

"Come in!"

She heard soft footsteps behind her, and rolled her eyes further back to see an inverted image of Kate Marsh coming through the door. Victoria immediately sat up straight, then turned her chair around to face her.

"Oh! Hi, Kate."

"Hi, Victoria. Do you have time to talk?"

She smirked. "Lucky for you I just finished cleaning up all the shit someone put on my Facebook page this morning. Some of the people around here really need to get a life. And yes, I'm aware that I don't really have room to talk about putting stupid shit on the internet."

"It's okay, Victoria. You weren't at fault here. If anything this should give you some idea of what I went through."

"Not even a comparison," she replied, holding her hand out horizontally at cheek level and wagging it back and forth. "This isn't the first prank someone's pulled on me and it won't be the last. It comes with the territory. I mostly wanted to make sure you didn't get caught up in it."

"That's sweet." Kate's face lit up with a soft smile, and she sat down on the foot of the bed in the corner. "But that's actually one of the things I wanted to talk to you about."

Solemnly, Victoria nodded. "You heard that rumor too, huh?"

"Sort of. Nobody wanted to tell me directly, but I pieced it together. Brooke really tried rubbing it in your face in Jefferson's class, but then you pulled a total power move. It's kinda cool that you know exactly how to respond when people are trying to put you down."

"Like I said, I have a lot of experience. It's also why I try and get people before they get me. But it has a downside. I didn't really think about how much I was hurting people who didn't deserve it until everything that happened with you. Contrary to rumor, though, it's not because I want to eat you out."

Kate blinked and recoiled slightly, but quickly recovered. Victoria chuckled.

"Too far?"

Shaking her head, Kate tucked a stray hair behind her ear. "I just wasn't expecting you to phrase it like that. Caught me by surprise."

"Look, I just want you to know that the reason I started trying to change is because you and I had the same experience, and that made me realize we weren't so different after all. I genuinely want to be friends with you, because it turns out you're actually really cool and smart. Not because I'm some predator or something."

"Is that what you think gay people are?" she asked, squinting. "Predators?"

That caught her off guard, and she had to quickly reconstruct her expression. "Of course not! Well, not now, anyway. It's kinda hard to unlearn all the stuff you were fed growing up. Church must have filled you with all sorts of weird ideas about being gay."

Kate shrugged. "The Bible actually doesn't have much to say against it. Most of the stuff in Leviticus is about temple prostitution, and there's a strong subtextual implication that King David and his friend Jonathan were lovers."

"Wow. Never learned that in Sunday school."

"Besides, look at Max and Chloe. Are they predatory? Or just normal people?"

"I wouldn't exactly call either of them normal," said Victoria. "But not because of the gay thing."

"I'm not upset about the rumor," Kate continued. "There's no point getting offended over something that's not offensive."

Victoria squinted. "Is that your way of coming out to me or something?"

She laughed. "I haven't bothered to figure any of that out. I'm here to get an education, not experiment with my sexuality. I'd at least like to save that for college."

A cackle escaped from Victoria as well. "You are not anything like what I expected from a bible chick. We should've been friends way sooner."

"Agreed."

She folded one leg over the other, resting her forearms on one knee. "But what about your family? Do they feel the same way you do?"

Kate shook her head. "I got the same line as every kid who grew up conservative. My parents think it's a sin, and my aunt actually sent her son to a conversion camp. Now he wants nothing to do with the family." She shrugged. "But honestly, aside from my dad, my family wasn't there for me when that video went viral. They actually kinda shunned me. So I don't really care what they think."

"I wouldn't either. It's good that you're forming your own opinions about things. You're becoming your own woman."

She smiled.

"So you mentioned there was something else you needed to talk about?"

Kate nodded. "I talked to Nathan earlier. He has a pretty strong lead on who might have drugged us."

"Who?"

She frowned, staring off to the side at the floor. "Stella."

"Seriously? Oh, that bitch is _so_ dead."

"It's kinda hard to believe, but the evidence makes sense. She was working at both parties, and there's a record of her buying drugs that are designed to knock someone unconscious. But it might go deeper than that."

"How so?"

"This morning, I talked with her, Brooke, and Alyssa," she said. "They all tried telling me to stay away from you, and given what happened in Jefferson's class I'd say they all had at least some hand in what happened to your Facebook. They probably started the rumor too."

"And, following that logic, one of them might have planted the weed in Rachel's locker."

"But why? I understand them not liking you, but what about me? Or Rachel?"

"I suppose I deserve that." She chuckled. "What I don't get is how any of them managed all this when two of them are scholarship kids and the other one sits on a bench all day reading trashy romance novels. Hacking my Facebook I can believe, but where are they getting the money for all those drugs?"

"You got me."

"Well, one thing's clear. We can't let them get away with it. I'm gonna call Courtney and Taylor in here so we can work on a game plan. And… I'd really like you to stay." She smiled. "You're one of us now."

Kate craned her head back. "You mean…?"

"That's right. Welcome to the Vortex Club."

* * *

"Thank you for coming," said James Amber, seated at the head of the dining room table. The food had been served, and stood there untouched, steam slowly rising for a few inches before evaporating completely. They kept their attention trained on the DA, who had just come out of his office to join them. Rose sat with her back to the living room, while Joyce sat nearest to the grandfather clock, and David occupied the seat next to her. "Sorry to keep you waiting. Sometimes work just doesn't know how to stay at the office."

Joyce laughed. "You're telling me. One good thing about servin' the same food all day is you get to come home and cook whatever you want."

A brief chuckle escaped from Rose, who smiled and took a bite of her chicken, and they took that as a signal to do the same. David occupied himself by wolfing down half the plate rather than say something after the warning Joyce had given him.

"Well, I hope this is up to your standards, Joyce. Just because it's fancier than diner food doesn't automatically make it better."

"It's excellent, Rose. I like that you used sage and black pepper. Not enough people remember to season their food."

"Please, that's just what the cookbook said. But I'm glad you approve."

Smiling, she continued to dig in.

"So I'm sure you're wondering what we're doing here," Rose said a couple minutes later. "And I have a confession to make. James and I _have_ been talking about what he's working on, and we think the two of you should be part of it."

David leaned back warily, and Joyce stared at her, perplexed.

"It's nothing untoward, I promise you," she said, holding her hand horizontally over the plate and shaking it back and forth. "But it has to do with Rachel and Chloe, and their future. I think I should let James explain."

"Thank you honey," James said, then turned his attention to them. "I know these past few days have been difficult for both our families. But I think that together, we can make sure this all has a happy ending."

Joyce raised an eyebrow. "What exactly do you mean?"

"When our families met three years ago, the circumstances were markedly similar to how things have unfolded these last couple of days," he elaborated. "I believe they share the same root cause."

His face turned somber, and he stared at the center of the table. "I'm not sure how much Chloe has told you about what happened during that time," he continued. "Back then, I tried to use her friendship with Rachel to stop my daughter from going down a destructive path. I now understand that was a mistake."

"That's an awful lot to ask of a teenager," agreed Joyce. "Especially one who was going through a crisis of her own at the time."

James nodded. "I'm reaching out to both of you now because I believe something similar is happening. And I know why."

David squinted a bit, inclining his head, but said nothing. The DA continued after a moment.

"Sera, Rachel's biological mother, is back in town," he revealed. "She was at the center of everything that happened last time, and I believe the events that have played out over the last few days are her way of seeking revenge."

"Hold on a minute," said Joyce. "Rachel's biological mother? Did I hear that right?"

He nodded. "In every way that matters, Rose is the woman who raised her, and who deserves to be called her mother. But yes, Sera is the one who gave birth to Rachel, which was the only good thing she ever did for her." He scowled at the chicken on his plate. "There's a lot I haven't told Rachel about her, even after she found out. I'm okay with her resenting me for keeping the truth from her, because if she knew the full extent of what that woman has done… it would break her."

There was a long, tense pause as all of them processed that. David broke the silence.

"How do you figure it's her?"

"Sera has a… complicated history. I won't get into all of it, and most of it isn't relevant. But it does involve Frank Bowers, as well as the man he used to work for, Damon Merrick."

Joyce scrunched her face in confusion. "Who?"

"Local players in the drug business, the latter of whom died three years ago. As your husband pointed out in the meeting with the Principal yesterday, Rachel has been seen in Frank's company on more than one occasion. I also have it on good authority that Chloe buys her drugs from him."

David opened his mouth to say something, but she waved it off. "It's alright, honey. I knew they had to be coming from somewhere." Her features grew more serious. "But what do either of those men have to do with all this?"

"Rachel ran afoul of both of them three years ago while seeking answers about Sera," he replied. That's how Rachel ended up in the hospital after getting stabbed. Chloe got her there just in time."

Joyce and David exchanged a glance, then turned their attention back to James.

"After that ordeal, I thought Sera had disappeared for good. But last week, reports started surfacing that she'd been spotted around town. Nothing official of course, but I have my ways of getting information. Sera despises me for keeping Rachel from her, and I firmly believe there is no limit to how low she would stoop to get around that. Last time she tried suing for shared custody, but now… well let's just say she's resorting to methods that are less than legal."

"Such as?" asked David.

"A case could be made that the incident at Rachel's locker was her doing," he said. "It reflects poorly on Blackwell, and on my office's political agenda of being tough on drugs. Both things she could then use to manipulate Rachel into leaving her current environment, and following her to God knows where."

"This is a lot to take in," said Joyce, leaning back in her seat. "But can you be sure? What kind of mother would do that to their own child?"

"I've known Sera a long time," he said gravely. "There is nothing she won't do to get what she wants. And for better or worse, she passed that on to Rachel."

A small huff of air escaped David's nose, and he folded his arms over his chest. "So where do we come in?"

"My office appreciates everything you do at Blackwell," he replied. "But I believe that my daughter is being set up by someone who has no concern for the collateral damage caused by her actions. And I'm sure you're more than aware that whatever Rachel's going through, it affects Chloe as well."

David shrugged. "The investigation's out of my hands. I followed proper procedure."

"I didn't have my wife invite you to dinner to get my daughter out of trouble," he said. "If I wanted to do that I'd just take Ray to a bar and talk about old times. But it's not just Rachel I'm worried about. Chloe might be in danger as well."

"How?" asked Joyce, leaning forward.

"Have you heard of a woman named Samantha Black Elk?"

They both shook their heads.

"She's the granddaughter of suspected terrorist and current fugitive Joseph Black Elk," he revealed. "She owns a bar a few miles outside of town. According to my contacts in the police department, Chloe and Rachel were spotted in her company on multiple occasions over the last week. The FBI believes their organization is responsible for supplying drugs to Frank Bowers, and Damon Merrick before him."

Clasping his hands together, he sighed deeply and closed his eyes. "Sera has also been seen with her. I have no idea what their larger goal is, but Rachel and Chloe are both involved in something that's completely out of their depth. I owe it to you as a fellow parent to warn you before it's too late."

She sat back, stunned. Her head suddenly felt light, and she brought the heel of her palm up, pressing it against her forehead. David turned his full attention to her. "You alright, Joyce?"

"Sorry, it's just… I never imagined Chloe could be involved in something so dangerous. Smoking pot and drinking I can deal with, but… did you say terrorists?"

"Members of the Black Elks' organization attempted to bomb Pan Estates around eight months ago," he confirmed. "They've been disavowed, and legally speaking their actions can't be tied to the organization as a whole, which makes pinning anything on them… difficult." He turned to David. "I understand Sean Prescott has contracted you for security consulting. I'm sure you were aware of this already."

David nodded. "He mentioned something like that."

"What do you expect us to do?" asked Joyce. "This all seems like something the authorities should handle."

"It is," he said. "And my office is one of those authorities. All I'm asking you to do is talk to your daughter. Make sure she stays out of this. Before it's too late."

"And what about your daughter?" asked David. "You're letting her run around unsupervised in the middle of all this, and you expect us to listen to anything you have to say? How about you leave Chloe to us, and worry about your own kid."

"David!"

James held up a hand. "It's okay. He's right. But Rachel doesn't respond well to having boundaries put on her, as I'm sure you've experienced with Chloe. That's one of many factors that drew them together. But just because I haven't confined her to quarters, it doesn't mean I'm not keeping track of her."

He rolled his eyes. "This is exactly what's wrong with today's liberal parenting. If you let your child have too much free rein, they'll walk all over you."

"That's enough!" Joyce fixed him with a glare so intense it shattered the expression on his face, revealing the truth underneath. "You don't have any right to lecture them on parenting after what happened last night!"

Squinting, Rose tilted her head to the side. "What do you mean?"

"I mean that we'd love to talk to Chloe, but _someone_ smacked her so hard last night she hit the floor, then ran away. _That's_ where too much discipline can lead you. I'm thinking the two of you had the better idea."

Now it was James and Rose who shared a glance, before turning their attention back to the other couple. David had reset his features into a scowl and crossed his arms, glaring at the china cabinet.

"What's important is that both our daughters stay safe," said Rose, resting her forearms on the table. "Is there anyone, besides Rachel, that Chloe trusts? Someone you could get to talk to her?"

"Well, her friend Max Caulfield is back in town after five years," she replied. "I've been hoping she'd be a good influence on her, but it's too soon to see how that's gonna play out."

"I already tried that," said David. "I talked to her earlier today, to see if she could at least tell me if Chloe's safe. But she's dead set on keeping Chloe away from me." He sighed. "Can't say I blame her."

Joyce rested her elbows on the table, interlacing her fingers together and resting her forehead against her thumbs. "All we can do at this point is wait for Chloe to turn up like she usually does whenever she pulls a disappearing act. And hope to God she listens."

A grave silence overtook the table for several minutes as they all took time to soak in the information that had been shared. Unable to bear it any longer, Rose collected their plates, bringing dessert from the kitchen, a red velvet cake that appeared store-bought. They all ate it quietly, each of them contemplating their next move.


	24. All This Money Can't Buy Me A Time Machi

**Chapter Twenty Four  
** All This Money Can't Buy Me A Time Machine

"Have no fear, everybody!" said Drew North as he and his brother burst through the double doors leading into the auditorium. "The party can officially begin!"

He was holding up his arms, each hand gripping a plastic grocery bag that contained various assorted snacks and soft drinks. A duffel bag was slung over his shoulder that presumably carried the rest of the gear, and behind him Mikey carried two pizza boxes. Steph went scrambling over to greet them.

"Oh thank god, I'm starving. Just set it all on the table."

They did so, and Max shifted her chair to the right to make way for the food, eyeing it so greedily she almost forgot her manners.

"Hey," said Drew, extending a large hand for her to shake, and she reciprocated. "Your name's Max, right? Sorry we bounced right after meeting you yesterday, but I had some business to take care of."

She smiled, a fair bit more bashfully than she expected. Drew was tall, dark, and handsome enough to make her mildly flustered even though she was off the market. She'd always been this way around jocks, even before she moved to Seattle. She breathed just deeply enough to compose herself.

"No worries. I'm sure you have a lot to catch up on while you're back in town. I know what that's like."

He kept eye contact with her even as he unloaded the bags. "You just moved back, right? Mikey's heard stories about you from Chloe."

Max nodded. "My dad got a new job in Seattle five years ago and we moved away. Then this year I finally got into Blackwell. It took a little while to adjust, but this town finally feels like home again. Mostly thanks to Chloe."

"Rachel too, right? I heard you three were tight."

"Heh. You have no idea."

"Well it's good to meet you. You excited for the game?"

"I guess so. Gotta say, this is the one game I wouldn't have figured you for."

Drew laughed, leaning against the table and crossing his arms. "You know, in my business courses they've always got us doing workshops. Building teamwork, creative problem solving, thinking on your feet, all that stuff. Know how I'm so good at it? Because tabletop gaming teaches you all those skills. Hell, it's not even that different from organizing plays in football, making sure everyone stays focused and contributes something."

Now she was actually impressed. "And here Chloe told me you were just a dumb jock."

"I probably would be if it wasn't for my brother," he said, glancing off to where Steph and Mikey were chatting near the tech booth. Warren had wandered over to join them, leaving the two of them alone for the moment. "Steph, too. They helped me figure out who I want to be, not what kind of role I think I'm supposed to fill. Honestly, breaking my knee helped too. Just the kind of wake-up call I needed."

"Steph told me how it happened."

"I'm surprised Chloe didn't already. She was right there when it went down. She kept my brother safe even while Damon was kicking the shit out of me. I don't want to think about what would've happened if he'd gone after Mikey."

She squinted with one eye. "Why was Chloe even there?"

"Never bothered asking. From what I heard later though, Damon stabbed Rachel in the junkyard the next day, and Chloe drove her to the hospital."

Max nodded. "Chloe told me that part. She also told me he's dead now."

"Well that's a load off my mind. I knew he wasn't exactly running things anymore, but now I don't have to look over my shoulder."

"If it's not too forward, what kind of business are you back in town for anyway?"

Drew cocked an eyebrow, staring down at her before a chuckle escaped and he smiled. "Mostly I'm just visiting Mikey. But my scholarship doesn't cover everything, so I do odd jobs to make ends meet. A couple weeks ago I got a call from Eliot, and he hooked me up with an opportunity here in Arcadia Bay."

"Has he called you up for that sort of work before?"

"Not really. Honestly the only reason I agreed to it was because it gave me an excuse to catch up with people I haven't seen in a while."

"So what's the job, if you don't mind my asking?"

He laughed. "Damn, you really do go all in for this detective shit, don't you? I thought Steph was exaggerating."

A sheepish grin was all Max could offer in reply. "People have called me nosy all my life, so now I just lean into it. I feel better when I know what's going on around me. I don't like it when things stay a mystery."

"Well you don't have to worry. It's nothing sinister: just a few deliveries for a local business owned by a guy my dad went to Blackwell with back in the day. He really helped our family out after my dad lost his job and I lost… well just about everything. Now I'm returning the favor, _and_ getting paid for it."

"What business?

"Some auto repair shop out by where the Old Mill used to be. Somehow it didn't get swallowed up by the fire three years ago." He pulled a chair over and sat next to her, and she angled herself towards him. "As you can probably imagine, it's hard getting parts delivered that far from civilization. So me and Eliot have been picking up packages from all over town and bringing them back. It's decent money, even if it is only for a couple weeks before I have to go back to OSU."

Max was careful to hide her reaction to that. Before leaving, Chloe had told her slight details of the target for her stakeout with Rachel, and it met that description exactly. If that place was indeed tied to everything that had happened so far, then Drew was either leaving out some very important facts, or he didn't even know that he was in way over his head.

Before she could voice her response, the others came back to the table and began rifling through the pizza boxes. Max sat there pondering for a while before eventually digging in as well.

"So are we ready to game?" asked Steph.

A chorus of muffled, vaguely intelligible acknowledgements went up from around the table as they struggled to respond with their mouths full of food.

* * *

"Hey, this is interesting."

"Hrnn?" Pushing against the door of the car, Chloe forced herself upright, to see Rachel sitting cross-legged with one of the folders she'd brought splayed out across her lap, using her phone to chase away the darkness just enough to read. "What'd you find?"

"What you said about Eliot earlier got me thinking. Why _does_ he hate me so much?"

"Your guess is as good as mine."

"Well, I remembered seeing something in one of these files earlier. His last name. Hampden. Guess where I found it?"

Chloe shrugged and shook her head.

"There was a Major Lucas Hampden involved in Operation Charybdis, the same project that Sera and the Prescotts were part of. Like I said, most of the file is redacted, but he's listed as a liaison between DARPA and the Prescott Corporation."

"That's Eliot's dad," she replied. "Eliot always told me he disappeared ten years ago. Never did find out what happened to him."

"Whatever it is, maybe that has something to do with why Eliot's suspicious of me even though I've never done anything to him. Though I guess it could always be he was just jealous of you making new relationships outside of him."

"I like your conspiracy theory better."

"Hey, his feelings are his problem. I just want to make sure we know enough that they don't become our problem too."

Chloe groaned and leaned back, sliding down the driver's seat. "God, even when he's wrapped up in all this bullshit I barely care about him. By the time I met you I was blowing him off all the time, and he didn't want to move on. That's what led to the incident in your dad's office. Do you think he'd have done that if I paid more attention to him?"

"From what you've told me, it sounds like he wanted you all to himself, and you didn't have time for him anymore. It sucks, but cutting him off was the better move. Sometimes you just outgrow people."

Frowning, she turned her gaze towards the window, watching the tree trunks until they vanished into darkness. "Sometimes I'm worried you'll outgrow me."

She heard a chuckle. "Don't be ridiculous. I'm never leaving you, Chloe."

"The last person who told me that went to Seattle for five years."

"And she came back, didn't she?" A hand began to stroke her shoulder, and Chloe glanced the other girl's way again. "I know you feel like everyone in your life is going to abandon you at some point. And sometimes things happen that are beyond our control. But as long as the choice is mine, Chloe, I will _never_ leave you behind. Ever."

She nodded sullenly. "Sorry to be such a bummer. I suck at this whole emotional security thing."

"Everybody does. That's why you have to let other people hold you up sometimes."

Silence passed, and Chloe kept her eyes on the auto shop below. By this time the sun had been down for several hours, and they were halfway through the snacks and the coffee. Good thing Max had helped her get the best night's sleep she'd had in weeks or she'd be in zombie mode right now. So far all they'd accomplished on this stakeout was talking through all the things they'd left unsaid for three years, but at least that meant this wasn't a complete waste of time.

Even after all this time, Rachel was still a mystery to her. Her moods and attitudes could change frequently and without warning, and keeping up with her was like trying to navigate whitewater rapids in the middle of a hurricane. Things were good now, sure, but the other shoe was always out there, waiting to drop. This wouldn't last. Nothing good in her life ever did.

Shaking her head vigorously, she sat up straight. ' _Hey, shut up brain! What did Rachel_ just _fucking say?'_

Rachel was staring at her with a half smile, mildly amused. "You okay?"

"At this point I have no fucking clue. But something needs to happen down there so I can stop being alone with my thoughts."

"You're not alone." She leaned into her, pressing their shoulders together. "I'm here."

"That's not what I mean."

"I know." Rachel nestled her head into Chloe's neck. "Have you ever tried seeing somebody? I mean, the power of parked car therapy can't be denied, but there's only so much help you can get from someone who's sorting her own shit out. Maybe a professional could do more."

"Yeah, it's done wonders for Nathan."

The other girl sat up straight and stared at her seriously. "Nathan's being ignored by his parents and enabled by Mr. Jefferson. It's not his psychiatrist's fault, and that kinda shit is beyond anybody's control. But you don't have that sort of thing standing in your way. Why not go to therapy?"

"That depends. Would you go with me, Miss everyone-thinks-I'm-perfect-but-really-I'm-dying-inside?"

Rachel socked her shoulder, and they shared a laugh. "Who knows? If it'll help you face your issues, then sure. I'll be right there with you."

"Thanks." She said it softly. Sincerely. "That actually means a lot."

"You're right, though. I'm getting totally restless in here. Why hasn't this guy closed up shop already? It's like seven thirty."

"Don't tell me your plan involved sneaking into his shop after hours."

"Maybe."

"What did you honestly expect to happen? You think some black SUV is gonna pull up and then out steps the person who ties this whole thing together? This isn't a fucking _Lifetime_ movie."

"That's right. Our life story deserves the full HBO treatment."

Chloe shoved her with one arm. "You're such a drama queen."

"You love it."

"But seriously, how _do_ all these things fit with each other? Assuming the motive is to bury Blackwell and your dad's office under a scandal, who benefits from that? Why go to all that trouble?"

Rachel stared down the hill, at the treeline. "We've been down that road too many times. It's a dead end. There's too many moving parts to it, and that's assuming there's a single unified conspiracy instead of a bunch of people all trying to pull off their own plans. We need to start thinking about what happens next. What's the endgame?"

"No idea. What do you think?"

"The way I see it, there are three potential outcomes." She began counting off her fingers, hooking one index finger around the other and pulling it back as far as it would go. "Outcome one: I get busted, Blackwell goes down in flames, my dad loses his re-election." She pulled down her middle finger. "Outcome two: We either find out who planted the weed and bring them to justice, or Wells and my dad find some way of sweeping this under the rug. No charges get pressed against me, everything goes back to normal. The whole thing ends up being a prank that went too far, as far as the world is concerned."

"What's outcome three?"

"If things get too hot, we get the hell out of Arcadia Bay and never look back."

"Liking that one more and more. How does any of this help us, though?"

"If we can figure out which of those scenarios is most ideal to whoever's behind all this, then we don't have to know who they are to stop them."

"I don't see how someone who'd go to all the trouble of planting that much weed in your locker would want you to get away with it," said Chloe. "And leaving is our idea, no matter what your birth mother says in my dreams. I don't think that works for whoever's behind this either. Hell, I'm not even sure why someone would want the first thing to happen."

"So what's your take on it?"

"Maybe none of this ties together. Eliot could be back in town for something completely unrelated. I know the FBI targeted me because we met with Joseph Black Elk, and Victoria getting her Facebook trashed was probably just her own bullshit coming back to bite her. Hell, even Ms. Grant hasn't been seen since Monday. I'm sure that's all the work of the Illuminati too."

"Wait, what about Ms. Grant?"

Chloe shrugged. "Max said she didn't show up yesterday or today. Probably nothing."

"That can't be right." Rachel pivoted towards her, bringing one leg up onto the seat. "I saw her outside the main building yesterday, right before I ran into—"

"Into…?"

She exhaled strongly, closing her eyes for a few seconds before opening them again. "Sorry. I ran into Mr. Jefferson. She was standing nearby, and I was trying to find a way to get her to help me escape before he just left on his own."

"Holy shit. Was it tough being near him?"

"Like you wouldn't believe. Just knowing what I went through in another timeline…" She began to shiver, and Chloe moved in, enveloping her in a hug.

"Hey. You're safe now. He can't get you. I won't fucking let him."

Rachel smiled and sank deeper into her embrace. "You know something? I believe you."

They continued to keep vigil, waiting for something, anything to happen.

* * *

After night fell, the courtyard in front of the dorm building grew ghostly and silent, but strangely comforting to the teenage girl taking her drone for a late night spin to test out the new night vision camera. Mr. Madsen was off campus, and she was on good terms with the rest of the security staff, who trusted her enough to look the other way when she broke curfew. After all, she never got into any real trouble.

Brooke smirked as she brought the drone back around in an arc, skimming just above the sidewalk before veering off towards the Tobanga totem, then back to where she stood by the bench just right of the maintenance closet. It whirred gently as it landed on the bench, and she jumped a little in glee as her mind caught on fire with the possibility of all the improvements she could make.

She almost didn't notice the leaves crunching behind her, but whirled around and pointed the drone controller as threateningly as she could muster. She withdrew it when the figure stepped out of the shadows, a wry grin covering half his face.

"Oh. It's just you."

"Did I scare you?"

"Nah, I'm just a little jumpy. Wasn't expecting you so soon."

Eliot Hampden continued smiling, scratching the back of his neck as he shifted his weight from one foot to another. "So how'd the test run go?"

"Went off without a hitch. Everyone always forgets not to put the answers to security questions right in their fucking bio. Didn't even need to put a keylogger on her computer or anything, because she blogged about her favorite childhood pet last summer and everyone in town knows her mother's maiden name."

"Anyone trace it back to you?"

"If they did, I probably wouldn't be out here right now. There's no program to trace and I did everything from a VPN. And Facebook support doesn't give a shit about finding out who took your password; as long as they give you your account back they figure people will shut up about it after that."

"Good, good." Resting a finger between his chin and his lower lip, he glanced around to confirm that they were alone in the courtyard. "That means we're ready for the real plan."

She nodded, furtively passing a small USB drive. "Don't know what you need her account for. Her reputation's well and truly wrecked already."

Eliot's face twisted into a sour grimace, and he stared darkly at the Tobanga. "Not yet it isn't."

"Tell me about it. Half the school likes her even more now that they know she isn't perfect. I don't think anyone but Mr. Madsen actually thinks that bag was hers. What's your problem with her, anyway?"

He chuckled. "My problem isn't with her at all. It's about what she represents. It's time people knew the truth."

"Yeah well, good luck with that." She started fiddling with the drone controller again. "By the way, Max and Chloe have you on their wall of suspects for the locker thing. Even Warren's gotten into the conspiracy spirit."

"Should I be worried?"

"Probably not. Besides, you didn't plant it anyway."

A shrug. "Well, you never know what'll happen. Especially when Chloe's involved."

"Didn't you two used to be close?"

"Emphasis on 'used to.' She friendzoned me sophomore year, then she started hanging out with Rachel Amber. I'm sure you know what that's like."

Bitterly, she nodded.

"Anyway, thanks for this." He stuffed the flash drive in his pocket, retrieving a stack of bills in the same motion, then handed them to her. "And this is for you. Guessing it takes a lot to keep that drone in such good condition."

"You know it. Nothing but the best for my baby."

"Be seein' ya."

"Hey wait."

He turned around. "Yeah?"

"The maintenance closet's usually locked this time of night but uh…" She jangled a small key ring, motioning over to the white door to her right. "Wanna go make out?"

"Thought you'd never ask."


	25. Darkest Dungeon Part One

**Chapter Twenty Five  
** Darkest Dungeon Part One

"We begin in a darkened tavern," said Steph, hunched down so half her face was hidden by the GM screen in front of her, pawing at the table with outstretched hands. "It's most famous for the fire that's been going since it was first started more than a hundred years ago; never once has it gone out, and local legends say it'll still be burning even after the world ends."

She sat up straighter, meeting the eyes of everyone around the table one by one.

"The four of you are sitting in a corner, drinking the evening away. You've done a few jobs together already, and right now you're lying low, hoping to pick up a new contract. Go ahead and introduce your characters to the group, starting with…" she pointed to Warren. "You."

He leaned in closer, seeming to almost slither as he bobbed back and forth, hands held up in front of him like claws. "I'm a Lizardkin Barbarian from the jungles of Kiinasha. I'm six-foot-five, three hundred pounds of pure muscle barely hidden under a weatherworn cloak that I use when passing through places that don't take kindly to my type. I look mean and I smash things with my axe a lot, but inside I've always dreamed of being a famous poet. You're the only group I've found that doesn't judge me for what I am."

"Sick backstory," said Steph. "What's your name?"

"You may call me... Feelyx the Cold Blooded."

Max blinked, craning her head back. "Felix?"

"No, not Fee-lix, _Feel-ix_."

She just stared blankly.

"Moving on," said Steph, and pointed to Drew. "Who are you playing tonight?"

Leaning back, he let a broad grin spread across his face as he glanced briefly at his character sheet. "I'm Renthor, a human Paladin who found religion after a long and bloody war led me to do a little soul searching. I grew up fighting because it was all I knew, but now I do it for a higher cause. And I rock the fuck out of this armor."

Max couldn't help an awkward, mildly impressed grin from appearing. From what Chloe had told her, Drew North was the Big Man on Campus for pretty much the entire time he attended Blackwell, leveraging his athleticism and natural charisma to get a free ride to the top of the food chain. Elements of that person remained etched into him like weathered stone, but from what she could gather, he'd mellowed out considerably since then.

Most of that had to be due to the influence of Steph and Mikey, who contrasted him starkly at first glance, until one learned to let go of preconceived notions and accept that they just plain got along well together, transcending the nerd/jock dichotomy and forming a genuine family unit. Max had witnessed stranger friendships.

"I'm playing a high elven Cleric from the Order of Zanduron," said Mikey. "It is my holy mission to cleanse these barbarian lands of evil, though I must make do with such lowly vessels as these to accomplish that great work."

"Lowly vessels?" Warren said it with enough conviction that it almost didn't seem feigned. "I suppose His Majesty requires a lackey to wipe his ass for him too?"

Mikey chuckled. "I am no Majesty—merely an instrument of the pure light of enlightened civilization. You may call me Sylvano Tal'naidir."

"Sweet name," said Steph, and then they all turned to look at Max, whose brain chose that moment to short circuit. "Go ahead and tell us who you are."

' _Okay, this isn't intimidating at all. How am I supposed to follow all that? My character's gonna look totally fucking lame.'_

This would normally be the part where her downward spiral into anxiety got the better of her and she would find some excuse to leave, to save herself the embarrassment. But something within her, a voice she hadn't really listened to before, stopped that dead in its tracks.

' _No, Max. That's just the fear talking. Life's too goddamn short to be afraid of looking like an idiot in front of your friends. Especially since they're putting themselves out there too. It's just acting. You can do this.'_

"My name is Karina Marrowgrim," she said, calmly and with as much confidence as she could muster. "I come from a long line of miners and blacksmiths, but all I ever really wanted was to be an artist. My family wouldn't support me, so I ran away." She looked down somberly, her features drawing into a frown. "But I also left behind my best friend. Now I can't ever go back, because I'm worried she wouldn't forgive me."

"Damn, that's gotta suck," said Warren. "So what's your specialty? What do you bring to the table?"

"I'm a Bard," she revealed. "My art has a bit of magic to it, enough that I can inspire others and help out my allies. It's gotten me this far with you guys. I can't sing for shit, though."

That scored her a quick round of chuckles, but the rest of them nodded acceptingly and moved on, and Max released the breath she was holding. Most of her nerves came down to the fact that, other than Warren, she didn't know the other people at the table very well. On some level she wished Chloe and Rachel were here, but she couldn't confine her social circle to just them, and this game wasn't the real reason she had come. Still, that didn't mean she couldn't try and enjoy it.

"As the evening goes on, patrons come and go, though none catch your attention for very long," Steph continued. "This tavern functions as a central hub, the heart from which the lifeblood flows into the surrounding town of Greymeadow. It hasn't been beating very strongly of late, but there's always the promise of another day, and another opportunity. Feelyx, if you could give me a perception check?"

Nodding, Warren reached for a twenty-sided die and rolled it inside a small box designed to keep it from tumbling halfway across the table. "Eighteen."

"You notice that while your companions have been laughing and drinking the night away, a hooded figure at a nearby table has been glancing over at you every so often. They've barely touched their drink, and it looks like they plan on being there for a while."

Leaning in, he adjusted his voice to a low growl, or as low as someone with Warren's vocal register could manage. He gestured with his head. "Someone's watching us. At that table over there."

"As he motions over to the figure, you all see the dark robes, with just a hint of long, dirty blonde hair spilling out of one side. Upon closer inspection the figure appears female, and given your high perception roll earlier, you notice she's holding a scroll and a large purse. Seeing you take notice of her, she stands and approaches your table. What do you do?"

"I sit up straight, and my hand tightens around my mug of ale," said Drew, "while my other hand slowly closes around the handle of my sword. I look at her and say: 'Greetings, traveler. How might we be of assistance?'"

"I draw my hood up tighter and let the holy men do the talking," said Warren.

Max glanced towards him. "I don't say anything either."

"'Well met,' the figure says, tossing the coin purse and the scroll on the table. 'I'm in need of some adventurers for a small endeavor. It's just outside of town, a short way into the woods. That purse is yours if you accept the contract, along with another two just like it upon completion, and all the treasure you can carry. What do you say?'"

"Is it dangerous?" asked Mikey.

"The figure smiles," Steph replied, before changing her voice again. "Well if it were a walk in the park I'd hardly need the four of you now, would I? I also wouldn't be paying as much."

"Forgive my companion," said Drew, laying on the charm. "Might you at least tell us your name? We'd feel much better about this if we knew who we were dealing with. As well as what we would be tasked with doing."

"My name is R'aina. You've all made a name for yourselves already, so no introductions are necessary on your end. As for the job, suffice it to say there's a temple I'd like to see restored, but monsters have taken up residence there and I need you to clear them out for me."

Max narrowed her eyes and scrunched up her nose. "How much is in the purse?"

"Make an investigation check."

She picked up the twenty-sided-die. "So roll this one?"

"Uh-huh. Then add your investigation modifier from your character sheet."

"Okay." She did as instructed, and read the number on the die. "I rolled a fourteen, and my investigation modifier is… plus three. Seventeen."

"Very good. As a dwarf with a family history of dealing with valuable metals, and as a guild artisan, you estimate the value of all the coins in there to be about fifteen hundred gold."

Eyes around the table widened, and Max leaned back. "Wow."

"I also need you to make a will save."

She blinked. "A what?"

"Roll another d20 and add your will save modifier."

"Okay, but what am I rolling against?"

"You're trying to beat fifteen."

Max shook her head. "No, I mean why am I doing this?"

"Because your GM said so. It's a surprise."

"Okay." She rolled the die again, and next to her Warren buried his face in his hands.

"Oh man."

Max frowned at the roll, and was briefly tempted to rewind. It seemed rather petty to manipulate the very fabric of time and space just so she wouldn't have to deal with failure, but Max never claimed to be perfect. Ultimately she decided against it. After all, even if she did rewind, it wasn't like she could choose which number it landed on the second time around. And she knew what could happen if she did it too many times, which she wasn't about to risk over something that had no meaning outside a game of make believe.

"Seven."

A brief chuckle escaped from Steph, who grinned in her direction. "You suddenly feel a very strong urge to take the job. The person in front of you also seems a lot more trustworthy than before."

She squinted with one eye closed. "So am I under a spell?"

"You don't know."

"But I do know. You just said—"

"I mean your character doesn't know. I try and keep a lid on metagaming."

"Metagaming?"

"It's when you use your knowledge as a player to act on things that your character shouldn't be aware of. I'm not gonna bust your chops over it, but it makes for a better gaming experience if you do things based on how your character would act."

"Oh." That made sense. "Okay. I turn to the rest of them and say: 'I really think we should take this job, guys. It sounds like a great opportunity.'"

"Sylvano agrees, and nods," said Mikey. "Praytell, what sort of monsters will we face in this dungeon?"

"Temple," corrected Steph, adopting R'aina's voice, a low, sultry melody pouring out of her throat like golden honey. "And they are of all kinds. The original occupants fled during a war, and the monsters moved in. No one's been able to get rid of them since, though others have tried."

Watching her, Max was transfixed by how good the other girl was at this. If she weren't already head over heels with Chloe and Rachel, she wouldn't mind spending an evening alone with Steph. But it wouldn't make sense to add even more people to an already unconventional relationship. She was still getting used to dating two people at once, and they'd only been official for like a day. Still, in another life…

"Why are you so interested in this temple, anyway?" asked Warren. "Feelyx narrows his eyes, trying to suss out her true intentions."

"Make an insight check."

He rolled, then frowned disappointedly at the result. "Three."

"In this low light, with her hood up, her features are difficult to read, especially while concealing your own. But the gold she's offering sure is tempting." Steph grinned, and her voice changed again. "I only wish to see it restored to its original purpose, as a bastion of hope against the tide of darkness that threatens this world."

"Seems legit," said Warren. "What say the rest of you?"

Drew shrugged. "I'm down."

"It will do good to rid the land of this scourge," added Mikey. "The money is an added bonus."

"I'm in too," said Max.

"'Then I shall leave you to your task. This scroll contains the directions to the temple. You may set off whenever you choose.' With that, she leaves the tavern, disappearing into the night, leaving the four of you sitting around the table, plotting your next move. Anything you'd like to do before setting off?"

"Shouldn't we be resting first?" asked Mikey. "The woods are dangerous at night."

"I'm inclined to agree," said Drew. "The contractor was not specific regarding when we would need to accomplish this task."

Max and Warren nodded.

A smirk crawled across Steph's face. "After a brief conversation, you all return to your rooms for a night's rest. Karina, if I could have you roll another will save?"

' _Don't fuck me,'_ Max ordered the die she held in her hands, then scowled when she saw the result. "Uh, it says one."

"A natural one? Really?"

She nodded.

She saw a mix of faces disappearing into palms and smiles like a pack of wolves as she glanced around, the weight of her situation slowly dawning on her. "That's bad, right?"

"It depends on where you're sitting," said Steph. "As morning comes, you all wake up, fully rested. Karina, you feel a slight itch in the back of your skull, almost like a headache, but not painful. You all meet for breakfast downstairs. Anything you'd like to do to prepare for your journey?"

"Renthor has all the supplies he needs," said Drew. "I'm ready to roll."

"As am I," said Warren. "What about you two? Did you sleep well?"

"The beds here are adequate, if lacking in refinement," said Mikey. "I have already completed my daily prayers, and my spells are prepared. I require nothing else."

"I feel kinda weird," said Max, running with the directions that the GM had given her. She scratched the back of her head. "But I should be fine. Let's go."

"After settling your tab at the bar, the four of you make your way out of the tavern and into the town of Greymeadow. It's a quaint place: more of a glorified village, really. Its one claim to fame is the ruined castle overlooking it from the top of the hill, once known as the great Castle Glatisant. Outside the central hub of buildings is mostly farmland, around half of which grow a local crop called the stoneflower. When ground up and combined with an alchemical solution, stoneflowers can be used to make a potion that cures petrification. It's the town's main export for that reason."

Max squinted. "Petrification?"

"Getting turned to stone."

"Oh."

"Following the directions on the scroll given to you by R'aina, you make your way a few miles into the woods. Are you prioritizing caution, or speed?"

"We take care on our approach," said Warren. "She gave us no timetable, after all."

"In that case, make a survival check."

He rolled, then smiled at the result. "Twenty four."

"You manage to avoid a pack of wild wolves along your path by skirting around to avoid them, without losing much time on your journey. You also sidestep various natural hazards and dangerous plant life. After roughly four hours, you arrive at your destination."

Standing up, she pulled the sheet off of the map in the center of the table, revealing something she'd probably put way much effort into. The rest of them stared at it in awe.

"Holy shit, Steph," said Drew. "You raid your dad's model train set or something?"

"Nah, I found it pre-built on eBay. Cost half a paycheck, but it was worth it to see the look on your face just now."

"It" was a scale model medieval building that looked like it belonged at a Renaissance Festival. The level of detail was astounding, down to the small grooves showing mortar between the individual bricks in a pattern that never repeated. Steph hit a button on her phone, and the stage lights above them changed to an eerie shade of blue-green. Creepy music began to play from a large speaker behind her, and Max stared at her in awe.

"You all see before you the promised temple, the sun barely poking through a thick black cloud cover that wasn't there an hour ago. All around you, dead trees sprout from the soil like long skeletal hands, grasping at the sky. Sylvano and Renthor, both of you can feel something evil surrounding this place. You notice it before the others."

"Well that's creepy," said Drew. "Are we sure this lady is trustworthy?"

"She tasked us with cleansing this place of evil," said Mikey. "Surely things will return to a more… pleasant state once we have rooted out the cause of this phenomenon."

"Hope you're right." He looked to Steph. "Do we see anyone else around?"

"Make a perception check."

He rolled. "Fifteen."

"Not a soul. A hundred feet from you is a large wall surrounding the complex, but the woods around you are barren. You'll probably have to head further in to find bad guys."

Mikey looked down at one of his sheets of paper, and nodded briefly to himself. "I cast Detect Evil."

"As the spell takes effect, you feel… nothing."

"Nothing?"

"You're not close enough. The temple is like three hundred feet away."

"Well then I do it once we're in range."

"Okay then. You feel—"

"Hold up," said Warren. "We're just gonna walk right up?"

"That's a good point," said Mikey. "Is there anything to hide behind as we approach?"

"Not really. The trees don't have leaves, and within a hundred feet of the outer wall there's nothing growing at all. On the other hand, because the sun is blotted out, you do have a bit of darkness to work with. You can make stealth checks if you want."

They nodded.

"Okay then. I'm gonna have you guys roll a group stealth check. That means we take the average of everybody's rolls."

Max grabbed the appropriate die and rolled, as did the rest of them. "Sixteen."

"Twenty-three."

"Seventeen."

"Thirteen."

Steph nodded, then did a some quick math in her head. "Okay, so rounding down, the average stealth roll is seventeen. Good to know."

"We're probably in for a fight once we get in there," said Warren. "Anything else we should do to prepare first?"

"How many potions do we have?" asked Drew, and they all looked at their character sheets. "I've got three regular and one greater."

He nodded, quirking his lips to the side. "I have two greater healing potions."

"All I have are healing spells," said Mikey.

"I have one regular and one superior healing potion." Max turned to Steph. "Why do we all have something different?"

"Because an adventuring party as experienced as yours wouldn't all have the same distribution of items," she replied. "But you're free to redistribute them as you see fit." They all shrugged and muttered among themselves, but ultimately nothing changed hands. "Are you all moving forward, then?"

"Aye," said Mikey. "As soon as the temple is in range of my spell, I cast Detect Evil."

"Well the range of your perception with the spell is sixty feet, so you'd have to get right up against the wall to really capture most of the temple in that."

"Then I do that."

"Okay then. As the incantation leaves your mouth in a hushed tone, you feel a burning inside your scalp, pointing in three different directions. One to your ten o'clock, one to your two o'clock, and one straight ahead."

"Can I detect what sort of creatures lie within?" He sorted through a few pages, quickly navigating to the one that held the description of the spell. "It says I know the type and number, but not their identity."

Steph smirked. "Well first off, they're all undead. The strongest concentration is the one that's furthest in, straight ahead of where you currently are. There's seven in that group. The one to your left contains three, while the group on your right only has one."

"I relay this information to the group."

"The one on its own has to be the strongest," surmised Warren. "If we take that one out first, the rest should go down easy."

"I suggest we do that quietly," said Drew. "While the undead are not the most intelligent of creatures, like anything else they'll come running if they hear the sounds of battle."

He squinted, concerned. "All that armor might be a problem, then. Maybe the quietest of us should scout ahead."

"But you'll need our divine magic if you want to stand any chance against the undead," Mikey reminded him. "We've gotten this far undetected, and as long as we make quick work of our foe it shouldn't attract too much attention. Also, I can make most of them turn tail and run if it comes to it."

"How?" asked Max.

"Turn Undead. It's a skill I have as a cleric. Basically the power of my god causes any undead who fail their saving throw to spend their turn running away until they either take damage or save from it on another turn."

"Good thing we brought you, then."

"On to the next order of business, then," said Drew. "How do we get inside?"

"There's a large gate about fifty feet from where you pressed up against the wall for Sylvano's spell," answered Steph. "But if you want to look for another way in, go ahead and roll a perception check."

He did so, and threw up his arms as a smug grin overtook his face. They all leaned in to look.

"Natural twenty."

Steph beamed as she dropped back into her chair. "O _kay_ , then. The temple is old and decrepit, but most of the walls are solidly made. You manage to find a weaker portion a few feet away from the gate on the left, which looks to have been breached before and quickly sealed. A high enough strength check should be enough to collapse it again, without bringing the whole structure down on top of you."

Wordlessly, Drew gestured towards Warren with both arms, then moved them in the direction of the imaginary wall. Warren took the cue and rolled, smirking at the result. "Twenty-five."

"With one strong, reptilian kick, you shatter the hastily patched-over mortar that wouldn't have held together on its own longer than a few more years, opening up a big enough hole for the rest of you to move through. Can I have a marching order?"

Warren nodded. "I'll go first."

"Me next," said Drew.

"I'll watch the rear," said Mikey.

"And I'll go third, I guess." Max leaned in closer as Steph moved all the miniatures inside the temple.

As Steph opened her mouth to continue narrating, a phone started to ring, and all of them glanced around. Drew produced his phone from his pocket, glancing at all of them apologetically.

"Sorry about that. You mind if I take this real fast?"

"Not at all. This is a good place to take a break anyway. I want more of that pizza."

Drew tapped the screen to answer and bolted out of the auditorium, and Max stared suspiciously after him. The rest of them started to redistribute the food, but her eyes didn't leave the double doors. After a minute or so he still hadn't returned, and she reluctantly allowed herself to be drawn back into what was happening around her.

' _I hope Rachel and Chloe are having better luck_.'


	26. What Light Through Yonder Window Breaks

**Chapter Twenty Six  
** What Light Through Yonder Window Breaks

Life in a Blackwell dorm wasn't anything to write home about, but Brooke couldn't really complain. The sunrise was happening on the opposite end of the dorm from her window, but the light found its way in all the same. A quick glance to the side showed that Eliot had already made himself scarce, which was a good thing because the rest of her floor was usually getting up around this time.

Groaning, she extricated herself from the sheets and proceeded to slowly dress herself, navigating around the somewhat blurry room before she located her glasses. With that taken care of, she held up her phone and confirmed that, for once, she'd actually beaten her alarm by three whole minutes. She swiped it away with a wave of her thumb and went about her morning routine, noting that a few new robotics articles had popped up on her RSS feed.

But science could wait until after breakfast. For now, she opened Facebook, scrolling absentmindedly while she gathered the rest of her ensemble. Warren had posted about some awesome tabletop gaming session from the night before, and she wondered briefly why he hadn't invited her before remembering that he'd left campus with Max. Her scowl deepened.

It didn't matter that Max was dating someone else. Warren still prioritized her over his real friends, and Brooke could only let that continue for so long. It wasn't even about the crush she had on him. She'd already moved on to someone much cooler. She was just tired of getting constantly overshadowed, even though she actually liked Max, in spite of all her hipster bullshit.

"Whatever." She kept scrolling, catching up on what she'd missed.

Being on scholarship had meant that Brooke was treated differently ever since she'd started going to Blackwell, mainly by Victoria and her ilk. She'd managed to carve out a niche for herself anyway, but it killed her to see so many people that she'd considered friends hang out with that crowd. Max was one thing, but Kate? Really?

She was almost out the door when she froze, and her thumb hovered over a status that had just been made an hour ago.

' _Alright bitches, it's open season_ ,' the status from Victoria read. ' _I haven't forgotten about what happened yesterday. You know who you are, and I do too. If I see you today, it's not gonna go well. Pick a god and start praying now._ '

Brooke remained paralyzed for several moments before forcing herself to exhale. Victoria didn't know. She couldn't. There was nothing that could be traced back to her directly, and even if there were, Victoria was too blinded by her own popularity to suspect her. Unless…

"Oh fuck."

* * *

"Nnnngh…" Chloe slowly coaxed her eyes open, shielding them from the sun as it filled her vision. Something warm and solid was pressed against her, weighing down her chest and lower torso. Glancing down, she saw Rachel clutching her tightly in her sleep, and it was then she realized that neither of them had gone home last night.

"Aw fuck. Rachel, wake up!"

She jostled the other girl's shoulder long enough for her to snap awake, jerking upright and glancing around, confused, before her mind caught up to her circumstances and she smiled playfully. "Wow. We suck at stakeouts."

"Tell me about it."

"Wasn't a complete waste of time, though." She leaned against the passenger's side door, hugging both knees close against her chest. "That's the longest we've talked in months. It was nice being able to open up with you again."

"Same here."

"Should we head back? I'm in the mood for one of your mom's Belgian waffles."

"I'll be shocked if either one of us is welcome back after being gone all night. We might as well collect Max and head to LA." She paused, frowning. "After we meet with Frank. He said he'd be there at the diner, same time as when I ran into him on Monday."

"Then it sounds like we're heading there anyway." She gestured down towards the bag with her head, pulling out her phone. "I've already got the cash. I'll text Max and tell her to meet us there."

The car started with a low rumble, and Chloe put it into gear and moved down the small access road that led to the main highway. Rachel sent off a brief text, then put the phone away after receiving a reply. "Okay, all set."

After a few minutes on the road, Chloe frowned and glanced over to her. "Are you worried?"

"About Frank? No. He doesn't scare me. It's just nice having a failsafe, you know?"

"Yeah. I'd rather not have a repeat of what happened last time he showed up asking for money."

"There's nothing to worry about," she insisted. "Frank's the whole reason Damon's not in the picture anymore, and we have something he wants. Nothing else we've tried has gotten us answers, as last night clearly proves. Besides, he's a good man, even if he'd like people to think otherwise."

"Doesn't mean he'll tell us anything."

"Just leave that to me. Thanks to Max we can have as many tries at it as we want."

Chloe turned onto the main road, accelerating hard and sending them rocketing towards town. "Yeah, well you two have fun with that."

A fist nudged her shoulder, and she swatted it away. Rachel grinned crookedly at her. "Hey. Neither one of us is leaving you out of things."

"Not on purpose. But how come you get to be immune to her powers?"

"No clue." Rachel shrugged. "None of this makes any sense to me."

"Well, we've got that in common at least."

"True enough."

* * *

A bittersweet indie song roused Max from her slumber, and she blinked as the world came slowly into focus. The conspiracy wall loomed above her, and the faces of all her suspects stared back at her in silent judgment. She scowled at them and shifted upright, planting her feet on the floor and letting the music wash over her like a soothing acoustic ocean.

The song was nearing its end when her phone rang, and she took her time retrieving it from her desk. Squinting, she craned her head back in surprise when she saw the caller ID, then slid her thumb across the screen and brought the device up to her ear.

"Hey, Mom."

"Maxine! How are you doing, sweetie?"

She wasn't quite sure how to answer that. The truth was obviously not an option; she'd hit her quota for mysterious phone calls when she created this timeline, and her mother wouldn't understand. Lying was tricky too, not that she had ever been particularly bad at it. In the end she settled for something in between.

"I'm fine. What's up?"

"Well, you've been at school for almost two months now, so I wanted to see how my little photographer is getting along. Do you like your classes? Have you made any friends?"

Max paced over to the couch and plopped down on its soft, welcoming cushions. "I guess. They're a little hard to keep up with, but I'm learning a lot. As far as friends go, I got back in touch with Chloe."

"Oh, that's wonderful! You two used to get into so much trouble together."

"We still do. She went through some hard times after I left, but we're finally on speaking terms again."

"That's good to hear, honey. Have you met anyone else?"

"You're gonna laugh, but I'm somehow friends with the most popular girl in school, Rachel Amber. Chloe introduced us. I've also gotten close with a girl who lives across the hall, Kate Marsh, and I'm even getting along with Victoria Chase, somehow."

"Well, you know I've always believed you had a way with people. You just needed a space where you could come out of your shell. I'm glad you're doing so well."

' _I'm really not_.' Max shook her head to clear it. "Yeah, it took a while to adjust, but I feel like I've found my rhythm. I'm finally settling in."

"I'm so happy for you, Max. Your father and I will have to come and visit you soon, and you're always welcome to spend Thanksgiving here in Seattle with us."

"Thanks." She tried to keep the frown out of her voice, and failed. "I'll definitely keep that in mind."

"Honey, are you sure you're okay? You can always talk to me, you know."

"Of course I'm okay," she lied. "I have to get ready for class now, but it was good talking to you."

"Same here, sweetie. Your father and I are always here if you need us. Love you!"

"Love you too. Bye."

She hung up the phone, then stared up at the conspiracy wall once more. Even with all they had learned, none of them were any closer to the answers they sought. It felt like this mystery was going to drag on forever, and she wanted to skip to the part where it was all over. But bad things tended to happen whenever she missed long periods of time.

It struck her suddenly that she had never really bothered learning what happened in between that fateful phone call and the moment she woke up under a tree, with Rachel Amber staring down at her. She had people she could ask, but it seemed largely irrelevant compared to the quagmire in which she currently found herself. A lot of things had stopped mattering.

Her classes, for example. Even setting aside her issues with Mr. Jefferson, she hadn't shown up to Ms. Hoida's class since Monday, even though it presented no danger. She just couldn't see the point of it all. Not after everything she'd been through. The true nature of the universe had been laid bare to her, and now she couldn't see anything the same way.

Was this how Chloe felt all the time? Warren had made the point that they were starting to sound similar, and it was hard to disagree. Still, she hadn't completely tuned out everything in her life. The game last night had been genuinely fun, and she loved spending time with her friends. Everything else had just… faded into the background somehow.

' _Is that why Jefferson never marked me in this timeline?'_

Max shuddered as the memory of the Dark Room stabbed into her, filling her with icy dread. He'd talked about wanting to capture people's innocence the moment it faded and transitioned into something dark and cynical. But he'd missed that opportunity in this world. Max knew she hadn't lost herself completely though, because she couldn't decide whether that was a good thing or not.

The phone buzzed again, and a text from Rachel appeared on her lockscreen.

' _Morning sleepyhead. Me and Chlo are headed to the 2 whales see u there and make sure to look fresh.'_

"Maybe I just need a shower," she muttered, then stood and gathered her toiletries, heading out the door and into the hall.

* * *

They arrived at the Two Whales just as the morning rush was settling down into a more manageable stream of regulars. Chloe hit the bump connecting the street to the parking lot a little too fast, and a worrying _thunk_ passed through the cabin as Rachel was lifted briefly off her seat, then wrenched back down as the seatbelt kicked in half a second later. In classic form, Chloe parked the truck across two spaces, having long ago stopped giving a fuck. Rachel thought back to the joke the other girl had made when they hitched a ride on that train three years ago, and smiled.

"And now we wait."

Rachel nodded, resetting her face to a more neutral expression. "Sure you wouldn't rather do that inside?"

"I'm sure. Don't really wanna talk to my mom right now."

"Well _I_ am gonna go change," she announced, hefting up the stakeout bag. "And I need to redo my makeup, not to mention my period's due to start any day now and—"

Chloe leaned back and laughed. "I get it. It takes a lot of effort to look that perfect. Go do your thing."

"Be right back." She leaned over and kissed her on the cheek, then on the lips, before exiting the truck and making her way across the parking lot. The cool, salty breeze ruffled her hair as she rounded the front entrance, making her way through the door.

She spotted Chloe's mom pouring hot black coffee for a trucker who never seemed to lose his scowl. Rachel pulled the bag up higher to conceal her face and hustled towards the bathroom, closing the door behind her before claiming an empty stall. She peeled off the black turtleneck, replacing it with a torn white tank top layered over an old band shirt, then completed the look with a trusty blue flannel. Next she replaced the pants with some strategically ripped black jeans that she'd taken scissors to herself.

With that settled, she packed everything back into the bag and exited the stall, moving to the sink. She pulled out her small collection of toiletries and went to work, and a few minutes later she was restored to glory. Hefting the bag over her shoulder, she prepared to leave the bathroom when the door swung open, nearly colliding with her as she hopped back.

"Oh! Pardon me."

"Uh, no worries," Rachel said as soon as her nerves settled down.

She'd seen the woman in front of her before. She usually hung around the back alley behind the diner, living off whatever people tossed her way. Rachel had never been able to shake the feeling that she knew her from somewhere else, but never grew so curious as so pursue an answer.

"Leavin' town?"

"Huh?" She jumped again, startled by the question. "Oh, the bag. No, I just had a late night and didn't have a chance to run home."

"Wouldn't take that home for granted if I were you." The old woman walked past her, towards the sink, where she collected water in her hands before running it over her face. "It can seem like a prison sometimes, but if I had the chance to do it all over again, I'd want to hang onto that."

Hiking the strap of the bag further up her shoulder, Rachel looked briefly out through the diner, past the empty booth to the truck stop across the street, then further beyond that to the ocean. She stared into the distance for a few moments before turning back towards the stranger.

"Was it nice? The home you had?"

She laughed. "It was decent. Had four walls, a nice roof, and a lotta memories." Running the water through her hair, she sighed wistfully.

Reaching into the bag, she stepped closer to the woman. "I, uh, have a brush. If you want."

"Why thank you." She nodded appreciatively, taking the brush from her grasp and running it through her long gray hair. "'Course the sea air'll undo all this in about an hour. But that's how life is. Nothing's permanent."

"Sorry if this is too forward, but do I know you from somewhere? And I don't mean behind the diner."

The woman chuckled. "Oh honey, I never forget a face. I was on staff at the hospital that day you came in bleeding from your arm like a stuck pig. Saw how you burst through that door with Joyce's daughter draggin' you along like it was her life that depended on it."

"You used to work at the hospital?"

"Fifteen years. It was steady work. Pay wasn't the best, but what is in this town? Not unless you're working for the Prescotts, and even then."

Rachel laughed. "I know what you mean. How did you…?"

"End up here? You don't wanna know, child. Hold onto that innocence while you still got some left."

"Must've been something bad."

The brush paused halfway down her hair, and the old woman nodded solemnly. "Like I said. Nothing's permanent."

Now thoroughly intrigued, Rachel crossed her arms and stuck her hip out to one side. "Did it have anything to do with the Prescotts?"

She froze up even further, and her eyes reflected in the mirror communicated more than words could ever say.

"I'm sorry for… whatever it was that happened. You don't deserve all this."

"Some days I wonder about that." She resumed brushing. "Truth be told there were steps I could have taken to avoid all this, and I decided not to. Took relationships for granted, and I didn't realize I'd burned some bridges 'til it was too late. If there's one thing I've learned, it's that there's always blame to go around. On all sides."

"Anything I can do? I don't have any spare change on me, but you can keep the brush if you want."

The woman chuckled, then turned around and handed her the brush. "Sometimes a pleasant conversation is enough. You got a good heart, Rachel Amber. But it's been broken for a long time. Don't be afraid of letting other people step in and fix it."

Rachel could do nothing but blink in response, leaning back in confusion.

"Thanks for the company," she continued, walking past her. "Be seeing you."

A minute later, she shook her head to clear it, and headed back outside.

* * *

Max had barely left the shower stall when Brooke zipped inside the room, looking back over her shoulder. Stepping to the side to avoid a collision, she clutched the towel tighter against her, glancing down to where her pajamas still rested in her bag. The other girl was looking around in a panic, and finally darted into the stall that she had just vacated. The stall that had her bag in it.

"Is something wrong, Brooke?"

"Shhh!"

The door exploded open, and Victoria stormed in, with Courtney and Taylor flanking her. Kate followed meekly behind them, glancing trepidatiously around the room. Max stood there with nothing but a towel to shield her from Victoria's white hot wrath, which thankfully was not directed at her.

"Max! Did you see where that living troll doll went?"

She quirked an eyebrow. "Who?"

"Brooke!" She started gesticulating around her head. "Because she has weird hair like a—nevermind! Have you seen her?"

"Uh, she ducked in here for a second and ran out. Why?"

She turned to Courtney and Taylor. "Go search downstairs! See if you can find Stella or Alyssa too!"

Her minions nodded and dashed out of the bathroom, leaving Max, Victoria, and Kate. The shower curtain didn't entirely cover Brooke's feet, but for now she remained undiscovered. Victoria started pacing, taking deep breaths and shaking off some of her nervous energy.

"Why are you after them? Did they do something?"

"What didn't they do?" She centered herself, then continued more calmly. "They were all behind what happened to my fucking Facebook yesterday, and the rumor. And not just that. Kate found out something I think you'll find as interesting as we did."

"Kate?"

Kate stepped forward, looking at her gravely. "Stella's the one who drugged me. And Victoria. And I think Brooke and Alyssa might have helped her with it, or at least knew."

The conviction in her voice contrasted against how patently false it was caused Max's brain to short circuit for a moment. She rapidly shook her head back and forth to regain her composure. "Where the hell did you hear that?"

"Nathan. He showed me a record of Stella buying drugs from Frank Bowers that are designed to knock people unconscious, and she was the coat checker at both parties. I didn't want to accept it either, but it makes sense."

"Oh man." She clutched her head with both hands and threw her neck back in exasperation. "Of course it was fucking Nathan."

Victoria tilted her head sideways. "Max, what are you talking about?"

" _Nathan_ is the one who drugged both of you!" she blurted out, unable to hold it in any longer. "And he didn't take you back to your dorms, at least not right away. There's a secret dark room under the old Prescott farmhouse that he took you to; that's why you both remember being there. Mr. Jefferson is involved too. You're both in serious danger and I have no idea who's next!"

Dead silence hung in the air for what felt like an eternity. Max shuffled uncomfortably and re-fastened the towel. Finally, Victoria spoke.

"What the hell? Where'd you come up with that story, Max?"

"It's not a story. I've known all this since before we had breakfast on Tuesday. It's what I was trying to tell you before he showed up."

"So why didn't you?"

"Obviously I couldn't say all that when he was right there. Then all that bullshit with Rachel's locker happened and I got… distracted. But I'm being serious. Nathan is disturbed and psychotic and Mr. Jefferson is even worse! You have to believe me!"

"I see what's going on." Victoria crossed her arms. "You're just another conspiracy theorist who thought she could get in with the popular kids by coming up with an answer to what happened. And honestly, I should have seen it coming. Not like you're the first."

"What?!"

"Please. Nathan _has_ acted a little weird sometimes, but he'd never hurt me or anybody else. And you seriously expect me to believe Mark Jefferson would have a secret photo room where he takes pictures of drugged up girls? I don't know what kind of movies you've been watching, Max Caulfield, but it's obvious _you're_ the one who's delusional."

Max sighed. ' _And_ this _is why I didn't tell her before_.' She turned to Kate. "What about you? Do you believe me?"

"I…" Kate pulled her hands close to her chest. "I don't know. So many things that happened lately have been the opposite of what I expected. You're my friend and I want to believe you, but do you have any proof?"

"Not on me, obviously." She gestured down to the towel. "And it's too dangerous to go there and show you the Dark Room in person. But I swear I'm telling the truth."

"Okay, I can't listen to this anymore!" Brooke charged out of the shower stall. "Victoria, I'm sorry I sabotaged your Facebook. My bad. But you're right: Max _is_ a little attention whore. She's making the whole thing up to get more popular, just like you said."

"Et tu, Brooke?"

"Sorry, Max. But this wouldn't be the first time you've started spouting conspiracy theories. I shouldn't have believed you before either."

Victoria glared at them both. "I'll deal with you later," she said to Brooke, then turned back to Max. "And I'm done listening to you. Let's go, Kate."

Max let them get as far as the door before, with a sigh, she raised her hand and time began to flow backwards around her.

Of course it was too early to tell them all that. As the events reversed, she considered all the pieces of evidence it had taken to make the case come together in the last timeline. David's tracking data. Frank's ledger. Nathan's school file and burner phone. The folders full of photos in the Dark Room. All of which she'd let slip through her fingers like so much sand, and which might not be the same in this world. On top of which, if she told them now, it would expose all of them to untold danger were Nathan or Mr. Jefferson to get wind of it.

The only safe way to tell them was to let them find out on their own, after she, Chloe, and Rachel found some way of busting Nathan and Jefferson. Every other scenario relied too much on information that she had no way of explaining how she'd come across.

Time resumed just as Victoria entered, and Max stood there with her arms crossed.

"Max! Did you see where that living troll doll went?"

"You mean Brooke?" She nodded her head to the right. "She's in that stall, next to my stuff. Have at it."

"Traitor!" Brooke shouted as she blitzed past Victoria and her posse, then barreled around the corner into the hall.

"After her!" Victoria commanded, and they began their pursuit. Kate lingered in the doorway a moment longer, before slowly turning away and jogging after them.

Her morning now thoroughly ruined, Max scowled and picked up her bag, then threw on her pajamas and started back towards her room.


	27. Don't Hold Your Breath

**Chapter Twenty Seven  
** Don't Hold Your Breath

Stepping briskly through the diner as she bee-lined for the exit, Rachel narrowly avoided colliding with a fisherman as he walked through the door, stumbling back before steadying herself again.

"'Scuse me," the man said, then marched onwards towards his breakfast. She turned and made her way towards the door again, and was almost home free when she heard a voice behind her.

"Stop right there, Rachel Amber."

Hanging her head in defeat, she turned around to see Joyce Price staring her down from behind the counter, both hands cocked on her hips. She trudged forward, moving around to the side, towards the glass case displaying various baked goods. Joyce moved that way as well, nodding to the other waitress on duty, who began attending to the fisherman who had just entered.

"Uh, hi Joyce," she said awkwardly once the other woman had moved from behind the counter, and they stood closer to the jukebox. "I was just ducking in to use the bathroom real quick. Sorry I didn't say hi."

"Oh, you don't have to apologize to me," she insisted. "But your parents must be worried sick. Did you go home at all last night?"

Rachel shook her head.

"Is Chloe outside?"

She nodded.

"Then tell her to get her rebellious teenage butt in here so we can have a conversation. You might not have talked to your parents yet, but they shared some things last night that are awful concerning." She smirked. "Besides, you're not gettin' out of here without some coffee. Go and sit down."

Obediently, she marched over to the nearest booth, while Joyce went to fetch the promised coffee. Sliding her bag under the table, she produced her phone and fired off a quick text.

' _Joyce alert. Being held captive right now, she wants you to come inside._ '

A few seconds passed as she sat there, thankful that no one from Blackwell really came here this time of day. She glanced out the window, towards the lighthouse, thinking how easy it would be just to run out the door and never look back. But they had business here, which meant she had to linger a while longer. Her phone buzzed, and she read the response.

' _any chance you can bail?_ '

' _Not really. Besides, we're waiting on Frank._ '

' _we could always blow this town_ '

' _not until we get answers. Max is meeting us too, remember? ;)'_

' _ugh, fine. Be right there._ '

Rachel set the phone down, and it sounded a moment later.

' _and NO EMOJI!_ '

She chuckled to herself, just as Joyce returned with a pot of coffee and two mugs. Chloe entered a minute later, not even bothering to hide her contempt as she approached with her thumbs tucked into both pockets. She slid wordlessly into the booth beside Rachel, and Joyce sat down on the opposite side.

"Good Lord, Chloe, that eye looks awful."

Chloe rubbed the shiner that didn't look any better than it had yesterday, and huffed. "I thought you'd be used to it by now, Mom. Not like this is the first time I've been manhandled by that piece of shit you married."

Her face sank, and she regarded Chloe with a sorrowful look. "David's sorry, Chloe. _I'm_ sorry for letting things get that far. I promise you, I'll make sure nothing like that ever happens again."

"This mean you're getting a divorce? Because that's the only way I see _that_ happening."

"Nobody's divorcing anybody." She laid her arms on the table and leaned forward, while Chloe folded hers across her chest. "But there's a few good family counseling programs I've been looking at. We can work through this, together."

"Fat fucking chance."

"Chloe." Rachel placed a hand on her shoulder. "I know where you're coming from. But you're mom's trying. Can't you meet her halfway?"

She rolled her eyes. "Fine. But if you think I'm gonna sit on a couch while fucking Lieutenant Dan whines about all the shit he should have been going to therapy for this whole time, you've got another thing coming."

"I wish you wouldn't dismiss things so quickly," said Joyce. "It's clear our family has issues that we can't sort out on our own."

"Well then maybe we shouldn't be a family at all."

"Chloe!"

"What? I've been telling you what an asshole David is for three years! I shouldn't have to live with a dude who thinks it's okay to spy on people then hit them when they call him out! Either he goes or I do."

Rachel was trapped in the seat closest to the window, and Chloe's taller frame blocked her egress. Not that she was about to abandon her. Her eyes flitted between Chloe and Joyce as they stared each other down. Finally, Joyce relented, leaning back with a sigh as she broke off eye contact.

"You've pulled this kind of stunt too many times for me to expect you'll listen when I say I just want you to come back home," she said. "But David isn't going anywhere. I made a commitment when I married him, for better or for worse. I know if you two could find some common ground, you could work past this."

"I know it's not really my place," said Rachel, clasping her hands together on the table and twirling her thumbs. "But Chloe shouldn't have to live in an environment where her safety is at risk. I think David _does_ want what's best for both of you, but ultimately that's filtered through whatever he _thinks_ that is. My dad thought he knew what was best for me, and we all know how _that_ turned out."

Frowning, Joyce turned her attention to her. "That reminds me. Your parents shared some things with David and I last night that I think you should hear."

"Rachel's dad is a lying sack of shit," said Chloe. "We don't really care what he told you."

Rachel sighed. "Well he _is_ , but we're already sitting here. The least we can do is hear your mom out."

"Fine."

"Thank you." Her features turned even more serious. "To be honest, even I don't want to believe half of what I heard last night. But considering the facts, it mostly makes sense. I've always figured most things in this town were connected but…"

"But what?"

"Well for starters, I know who you two have been spending your time with, and I'm _very_ concerned."

Chloe groaned. "Jesus, did he tell you about Frank? I just buy drugs from him, Mom. He's not even that tough."

"Well he did mention him, but no. I'm talking about Samantha Black Elk."

A pall fell over the table, and Rachel's eyes widened to saucer-like proportions. "What, uh… what did he tell you about her?"

"That she's involved with terrorists, and that the two of you went to her bar last Friday. What in God's name were the two of you doing out there?"

"We were trying to get in touch with her grandfather," she answered. Chloe whirled on her, an incredulous expression on her face, but she waved it off. "What? Your mom's impossible to lie to. Besides, it sounds like she already knows most of it."

"How do you even know someone like that?"

"They went to summer camp together," answered Chloe, her face having morphed into a scowl. "Apparently they go way back."

"I promise, we're not in any danger from her," said Rachel. "She's just an old friend."

Joyce crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow. "You know she was in here the other day? She sat right where you are now, drinkin' nothing but coffee until a friend of hers walked in."

Narrowing her eyes, Chloe tilted her head to the side. "What'd this friend look like?"

"Late twenties, wore a baseball cap and a jacket. I've seen him around that sketchy RV that's parked outside sometimes. He comes in occasionally, but I never got his name and he always pays in cash."

"Fuck. That's Frank."

Rachel leaned forward a bit, her expression curious and introspective. "Did she say anything to you?"

"Just asked about Chloe. Your mother had just come in and invited me to dinner, and she overheard. Knowing what I do now, she was probably gathering information, but for what I don't know." Joyce shook her head. "Like I said, I'm not sure what to believe. I just want to make sure you girls are safe."

"Well you can start by kicking step-fucker out of the house," said Chloe, standing up. "We're done here, Rachel. Let's go."

"Chloe, wait!" But she was already halfway to the door.

"Sorry Joyce," Rachel said as she retrieved her bag and started after her. "Thanks for the coffee."

"Rachel."

She glanced over her shoulder. "Yeah?"

"Make sure she doesn't get in too much trouble, okay?"

Rachel nodded. "I promise."

* * *

"Chloe, slow down!"

They had reached the parking lot, and were halfway to the truck. Chloe continued marching forward, plucking her keys out of her pocket. Rachel caught up with a few quick strides, gripping the other girl's arm forcefully enough to make her stop and turn to face her.

"What?"

"I get that you're mad at your mom, but we can't just up and leave right now. We're still waiting on Max, not to mention Frank. Until both of them show up we have to stay put."

"You think I don't know that?" She huffed, and her shoulders dropped a bit as some of the anger left her. "And I'm not pissed at my mom, even though she's still married to this idea that David's somehow worth it even after all the shit he's pulled. I just needed a wide open space so I can freak out about the fact that your 'old friend' is fucking stalking me!"

Rachel rolled her eyes, folding her arms over her chest. "Sam isn't stalking you. Part of her job is to keep tabs on new faces. And given that the FBI tried to recruit you as a snitch, it's hard to blame her."

"How well do you _actually_ know her? And why would she be meeting Frank when they had you be their go-between for so long?"

"I don't know, maybe because you buy drugs from him on a regular basis, making him a good source of information?"

"All I know is if she pulls that shit on Max I'm gonna punch her."

"Let me know how that goes."

"Oh come on." She threw her arms up exasperatedly. "She can't be that tough."

"The whole reason I discovered I'm immune to Max's powers is because I saw her take you down in one hit," she replied, crossing her arms. "Sam's good at fighting. Like, really good. She learned it all from her grandfather."

"Yeah, the suits told me he was a Navy SEAL for twenty years."

"There's a reason nobody messes with her. Even Damon Merrick knew better."

"Then how come I never even heard about her until last week?"

Rachel shrugged, then turned around and watched the road as a few cars whizzed by. "It's like I told you then. Up until Max's little revelation, those two parts of my life had no reason to intersect. It's not like Sam and I were hanging out behind your back or anything."

"Please, like you didn't already hang out with half of Blackwell. Why would you think I'd care?"

"Can we not do this right now?"

"I don't see many other ways of killing time."

She turned to face Chloe. "We could go make out again."

"Where? I'd rather not put on a show for half the town, thanks."

"Good point."

A few moments passed, and Rachel laughed.

"What?"

"Here I thought I was the drama queen. Even you aren't usually this mopey, Price." She reached out and stroked Chloe's shoulder with the back of her hand. "I get that the last few days have been hard on you. But we've been through worse. I have a feeling we'll come out of this just fine."

"Hard on _me_?" Chloe chuckled. "You're the one being framed for drug possession."

"Yeah, that's been pretty tough. I don't think I've really talked to anyone except you or Max since it happened."

"No support from your adoring public?"

"Oh, I got the usual outpouring of texts and Facebook messages," she said, her shoulders dropping as her features hardened. "But it's all so… performative. Fake. None of those people know the real me."

"The curse of being popular."

"It's not like I asked for that, alright? Sometimes I wish I was invisible, like you or Max."

Chloe raised an eyebrow. "Okay, doubt."

"What?"

"You might not have noticed, but the whole reason everybody worships you is because you pull your Jedi mind trick shit on them and tell them what they want to hear. You're like, scary good at it. You even did it to me when we first met."

She crossed her arms, craning back her neck as she stared at Chloe skeptically. "Oh yeah? When?"

"You will get on this train." She passed a hand in front of her face in exactly the same manner the other girl had three years ago. "Not to mention all the other crazy shit you talked me into that weekend. You say nobody knows the real you, but how can they when you hide it so well?"

It was silent for a few moments as Rachel considered that, and slowly her defenses dropped. "Okay, I guess you have a point."

"Being an outcast isn't all it's cracked up to be. Most of the time it just means you're alone."

"So does being popular. You can be surrounded by people and still feel lonely if all they see is the mask you put on to fit in around them."

"Sounds like you're screwed either way."

"Not when I'm with you."

Leaning forward, Rachel pressed her hands against Chloe's chest, and leaned up to kiss her. Their lips met, and for a few moments, everything around them faded away.


	28. True Friends Stab You In The Front

**Chapter Twenty Eight  
** True Friends Stab You In The Front

Chloe and Rachel were already pacing in the parking lot next to the Two Whales by the time Max got off the bus. Out of the corner of her eye she spied the local fisherman with whom she'd had a few spirited conversations in another timeline, though he didn't have a booth set up in this world, meaning the fish were safe at last. He was having a smoke to the left of the main entrance, alongside an exceptionally acerbic trucker who seemed to pop up everywhere, yet barely left an impression. All of these people, though each of them were the heroes of their own stories, felt like little more than background radiation in her life.

Was that why she found it so easy to give up a whole town, just to save one person she actually cared about?

It didn't matter that she'd managed to create a timeline where Arcadia Bay was never destroyed. The others still existed out there, somewhere, and a whole town of people had suffered through it every time. So why didn't she even remember their names?

It was a macabre thought to have this early in the morning, but Max was way past pretending her life was normal anymore. She'd been in this timeline for almost a week now, and she still hadn't used her powers for anything other than fixing her own mistakes. Chloe thought of her as a superhero, and Rachel did too. Even Warren couldn't stop singing her praises. But all she'd ever done with her powers was try to impose her will on an uncaring universe, picking and choosing the outcomes she saw as more favorable instead of just having to deal with disappointment like everybody else.

It was all just… metagaming.

Steph's brief roleplaying advice from last night had allowed her to finally articulate the exact depths of how selfish she'd been with her powers, even while wanting to use them to achieve some greater good. But she'd been down that road before. Morality could suck it when it came to Chloe and Rachel. And Kate. And everyone else she gave a shit about.

' _I guess, in a way, everybody only cares enough to help the people they're closest to. Otherwise you'd just get torn apart at the seams trying to save everybody.'_

By this time she had crossed the parking lot. Chloe spotted her first, turning around and raising a hand in greeting.

"Good, you're here."

"Hey," she said in reply. "Where's Frank?"

"Your guess is as good as mine. Could be he got caught up somewhere else, but most days you can set your watch by him. He's almost always on time."

"We could just be early," said Rachel. "He didn't specify an exact time, did he?"

"You'd know better than me. What'd he say when you texted him on Tuesday?"

Rachel shrugged. "Just that he'd see us today. I figured you'd have the rest of the details."

"Fuck it, I'm calling him." She pulled out her phone. "Gotta do everything myself."

The phone rang, and Max shared a glance with Rachel. Chloe turned around, sticking a finger in her uncovered ear. "Hey Frank? It's Chloe. Yeah, where are you?"

There was a pause, and Chloe grew visibly irritated. "What the fuck are you doing there? You said you'd be at the diner, same time as Monday! No, I'm not high! No one else will sell to me in this shithole town!" She waited for another few seconds. "Fine, whatever. We're on our way."

Snapping the phone shut as dramatically as she could, Chloe stuffed it back in her pocket and turned around to face them again. Max and Rachel crossed their arms and tilted their heads to the side with a degree of synchronicity that bordered on bizarre.

"So?"

"He's at the junkyard. Told me that's where he said the meet would be when he saw me on Monday. Asshole must have been on something, because he told me to meet him here."

"And you're positive that _you're_ remembering that right?"

"I've been involuntarily sober for six days, Rachel; I'm pretty fucking sure I heard him say to meet here."

Max squinted, debating whether or not to bring up something that just occurred to her. Distracted as she was, Chloe still noticed her hesitation.

"What is it, Max?"

"Probably nothing. It's just that last night the same thing happened with Steph. When you and I saw her on Tuesday, she invited us to her place for game night, right?"

"Yeah, I remember her saying that. Why?"

"Warren remembered her saying to meet at the Performing Arts building, and he ended up being right. So how come you and I remember it differently?"

"I dunno. Plans change. Like you said, it probably has nothing to do with this."

"Hold on, though," said Rachel, holding up a finger. "Ms. Grant supposedly hasn't shown up at school since Monday, but I saw her Tuesday morning. Nobody else remembers her being there, but I saw her just like I'm seeing the two of you now."

They said nothing in response.

"This doesn't fucking matter," Chloe decided, marching towards the truck. "Let's just go meet Frank so we can get our answers and be done with all this shit."

Max lurched forward and grabbed her arm, stopping her in her tracks. "Before we do, let's compare notes about what we learned last night. Did you two find out anything on your stakeout?"

Chloe and Rachel looked sheepishly at each other, then back to her. "We didn't catch anything interesting," said Chloe. "The guy just worked on cars all night, and Rachel went digging through some files her dad kept on Sera. Turns out she _did_ work for the Prescotts, and he knew all along."

"There was a military project from thirty years ago called Operation Charybdis," said Rachel. "And get this: Eliot's dad was involved in the project, starting the year before I was born. Then he disappeared ten years ago."

Nodding, Max stroked her chin. "Well, Eliot's definitely involved with the place you were staking out," she revealed. "Apparently the guy who owns it went to Blackwell with Drew North's dad, and he helped them out three years ago when all that shit went down. Drew and Eliot have been picking up packages all over town and delivering them to that place."

"Why all over town?" Chloe crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow, shifting her weight onto her right leg. "Arcadia Bay has a post office and that's about it. No Amazon warehouse for us."

"You got me." She scratched the back of her neck. "I got the feeling he was holding back some pretty important details."

"All the more reason we should talk to Frank," said Rachel. "He's bound to know if this Bradshaw guy is into anything shady."

"He's not the only one. Nathan's been busy doing cover-up work. He convinced Kate that Stella's the one who drugged her and Victoria. I knew he was evil, but…"

Chloe quirked her lips to the side. "You told them the truth though, right?"

"I tried. But they didn't believe me. I had to rewind. Until we dig up proof of what Nathan and Jefferson are doing, we can't tell anyone about it. It'll only make it easier for them to discredit us and pin the blame on someone else."

"Even if it means someone innocent gets caught in Victoria's crosshairs?" asked Rachel. "I know you said she's changed because of everything that's happened with Kate, but I've seen her on the warpath before. Stella's gonna get crucified."

"And Brooke. Victoria figured out the Facebook hack too. Stella and Alyssa were right next to her when she basically gloated in Jefferson's class yesterday, and I only found out about all this other stuff because Victoria and her posse were literally chasing her across campus."

Chloe rolled her eyes. "Look, we've got bigger shit to worry about than Blackwell drama. Let's stay focused."

She nodded. "You're right. The only other thing is I got the server logs, but at this point I'm not sure they'll help. And no, Chloe, I still don't think we should go to the feds with it."

Rachel whirled around, eyes flaring as she glared at Chloe. "Hold on, you wanted to _what_?"

"I _wanted_ to pull one over on those suits and get them to help us track the login," she explained, her body taut with nervous energy as she shifted her weight from one foot to the other. "But Max is right: that's a stupid idea, even for me."

"You're goddamn right it is," she said. "You can't play the FBI, and even if you could, Sam's had her eye on all of us this whole week, I guarantee it. Let's just forget about the fucking logins. Not every clue leads to an answer."

Max nodded, then quirked her lips to the side. "Maybe we've just been thinking about this the wrong way."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean I built that whole theory on something David said in a video. What if we've been giving these people too much credit? Maybe they got the combination some other way. They've gotta be written down on paper somewhere, like in the Principal's office, right?"

Crossing one arm over her chest, Rachel held the other up to her chin, scratching it briefly. "You're right. I was Wells' admin assistant three years running. The combinations aren't even locked up in his office; they're in the room next to it. Anyone with access to those filing cabinets would've been able to find them easily."

"Then we just need to find out who his assistant is."

"That might be a problem," she replied. "I wasn't the only one." At their confused expressions, she continued. "I helped him out first period, but it counts as a class credit, so anybody with a good enough GPA can apply for it."

"Do you know who's on that list this year?"

Rachel shook her head. "Not really. But it's a solid lead; better than we had before. We should check it out once we're done with Frank."

"Well I've had enough loitering for one morning," said Chloe. "Let's go before my mom comes out here to lecture us some more."

Max rubbed her stomach. "Too bad. I'd kill for one of her omelets right now."

Chloe grumbled as the three of them started walking towards the truck. "If it means that much to you, we can all get breakfast after this is over. But business before pleasure."

Chuckling, Rachel opened the door for Max, who slid into the middle of the cabin before they sandwiched her in. "Can't argue with that."

* * *

The noonday sun had risen over the junkyard by the time they arrived, and Frank's RV blended almost perfectly into the rusted landscape filled with things that had outlived their usefulness. Max felt suddenly cold, even while wedged between Chloe and Rachel as the truck slowed to a halt just past the railroad tracks.

"Last chance," said Chloe, glancing at her reflection in the rear-view mirror. "Are we doing this, or should we just leave Arcadia Bay once and for all?"

Opening the passenger's side door, Rachel sent both of them a confident grin. "Stop worrying. Everything's gonna work out just fine."

They both shrugged and exited the truck, with Max following Rachel's lead. They strode towards the RV, where they could see that Frank was already lounging in the sun, while his dog was nowhere to be seen. Based on previous experience, Max surmised that Pompidou must be on standby in case things got hairy.

"Yo, Frank!" Chloe held up a hand, and he slowly roused from his relaxed position, looking over the three of them.

"Finally." He stood up just as they came within ten feet of the RV. "The hell took you so long?"

"Dude, it's been like fifteen minutes."

"I know."

Rachel stepped ahead of both of them, and for a second Frank hesitated, as if contemplating what to say. Finally he settled on a simple: "Hey."

"Hey yourself. How's business?"

"Can't complain. Be a lot simpler if people paid what they owe on time."

"Sorry about that." She brushed her hair behind her right ear, looking sheepish. It was clearly a practiced gesture, but given the way Frank reacted to it Max couldn't fault her for laying on the charm. "It's my fault, really. Chloe had to fix up her truck a few months ago, and they wouldn't approve her for a credit card. Took us this long just to scrape it back together."

"Sounds more like her fault."

"But I'm the one who told you she was good for it," said Rachel. "And in a way I did end up guaranteeing the loan, considering most of this is allowance money."

"Alright then," he crossed his arms. "Let's see it."

Fishing around in her pockets, Rachel pulled out a small envelope that she then tossed over. Frank caught it casually, not taking his eyes off the three of them until it was time for him to count. He finished doing so a minute later, then nodded in their direction.

"Well, better late than never. Now we're square." He paused for a few moments, and the silence stretched on as they stared awkwardly back and forth. "What are you still doing here?"

"We uh…" Chloe clasped her hands together behind her back, bringing her left heel up to knee height before dropping it back on the ground again. "We wanted to ask a few questions. You know, while we're here."

He stared skeptically for a few seconds before Rachel moved between them, smiling sweetly. "What Chloe means is that you're the one person in town who might be able to help us right now. Did you hear what happened to me on Tuesday?"

Frank shook his head.

"Someone planted two pounds of weed in my locker and got me suspended," she clarified. "We've chased down a bunch of leads, and we can't get any further without asking you about it."

There was another long, tense silence as his eyes settled briefly over all three of them, settling the longest on Max. Finally, he shrugged. "Can't help you. I don't sell that much product at a time. Don't want someone else selling in my territory and trying to undercut me. Besides, even if I wanted to tell you who I've sold to, I can't. My ledger went missing yesterday."

It was Max who responded first. "Missing?"

"Stolen, more like. Don't worry: if I thought it was any of you we'd be having a different conversation."

"Why tell us?" asked Chloe.

"Because it's better to give kids like you a reason why talking to me is a waste of time so you don't start getting stupid ideas. And like I said, we're square now. I'm a reasonable guy as long as you don't try and fuck with me. But I don't know who's behind this any more than you do."

"Maybe you can tell us about someone else, then," said Rachel. "Chloe and I dug up information linking a number of my dad's investigations to an auto repair shop owned by a guy named Clayton Bradshaw. Who, by the way, also owns this junkyard."

Frank's eyes flashed with recognition. "Bradshaw, huh? Why the hell are you looking into him?"

"Answer my question first: who is he?"

"He's a fixer. The auto shop's just a front."

"What does he fix?"

"Depends on who's asking. I mostly do my own dirty work, but Damon used him as a middleman a few times. Basically he gets people indebted to him, usually kids, then gets them to do whatever the job is."

"Like planting weed in my locker."

"Exactly."

"Kids like Drew North?" asked Max. "Last night he told me that he's been making deliveries for him."

Frank shrugged. "Could be. Look, all you need to know is that if Bradshaw's involved, your best move is to run like hell and never look back. If you go after him, it won't end pretty. Believe it or not, I worry about you kids."

Craning her head back, Max squinted in disbelief. "But you don't even know me."

"No, but word travels fast. You were with these two at Sam Black Elk's bar, and half my customers are Blackwell students. I know exactly who you are, Max Caulfield."

She didn't have a response to that. She stood there, blinking mutely.

"Look, we know Bradshaw's just the middleman," said Chloe. "Best we can figure, this is all designed to fuck with the DA's re-election campaign, and ruin Blackwell's reputation in the process. Can you think of anyone who'd wanna do that?"

He shook his head. "Sorry. I don't keep track of all that shit. I just sell drugs to losers." He glanced at Rachel. "Present company excluded, of course."

"Thanks. Real helpful, Frank."

"Why do you even care so much about this? A weed charge is never gonna stick against the DA's daughter, even if she really did bring it to school. Just give it a week and it'll all blow over. I swear, you kids don't realize how good you have it."

"Frank, please." Rachel pouted in his direction, and his expression immediately sobered. "If you know anything that could help, we'd really appreciate it."

"Sorry, can't help." He crossed his arms and looked away from them. "Besides, I heard this isn't the only thing you're asking questions about."

"What do you mean?"

"I know you're looking for answers about Sera," he elaborated. "But that's a dead end, Rachel. You should let it go."

Her teeth gnashed, and Rachel leaned aggressively forward. He didn't flinch.

"Look, I'm just saying this because I care about you." His frown deepened, and he looked back towards them again. "How about this: you promise to drop this, all of this…" He tossed the envelope back to her, and she caught it, almost as an afterthought. "…and I'll let you keep the money. All of it."

The three of them stepped back, stunned.

"Are you fucking serious?" asked Chloe.

"Listen. You three are in way over your goddamn heads. The people Bradshaw works for can make your life a living hell, if they don't just kill you first. Whatever's important enough that they'd go after the DA, you really don't want to get involved."

"Except we already are," said Max. "And we're sick of adults saying they know what's best for us. You don't know shit."

His beady eyes narrowed and he squinted threateningly at her, but she stood firm. Next to her, Chloe crossed her arms and glared daggers at him.

"Where's all this coming from, Frank? You don't really give a fuck about any of us." She gestured in Rachel's direction. "Well, except her. But even she stopped working for you six months ago."

Frank blinked, shaking his head rapidly back and forth. "Working for me? What the hell are you talking about?"

"Don't play dumb with me, Frank. She told me herself. She was running messages between you and Samantha Black Elk, and then one day she just couldn't do it anymore."

A solid thirty seconds went by, during which Max noticed Rachel getting visibly nervous. Frank remained stoic for as long as he could, before doubling over in laughter. "Christ, is that what she told you? Oh, geez. You need to take a good long look at that fishing pole you swallowed, Price, because she got you hook, line, and sinker."

Chloe stood there, a quiet rage creeping over her features before she turned to glare at Rachel, whose poker face had broken entirely with this unexpected development.

"What the fuck is he talking about?"

"Chloe, please. I can explain later."

"Explain now!"

"Chloe…"

"Wait were you…?" Her face scrunched up in disgust, then fury. "What the _fuck_ , Rachel? _Him_? Really?"

Rachel offered nothing in reply.

"Whoa, hey, let's all just calm down," said Frank, stepping between them. "It's in the past. I don't have any hard feelings and neither does she."

"Fuck off, Frank! Get out of my face before I rearrange yours!"

He only laughed. "It's cute how you think you can threaten me. Don't go making a bigger deal out of this than it needs to be."

Max stepped forward. "Frank, you need to back down. Rachel told me why she left you. You scared the hell out of her."

Chloe whirled on her. "Wait, you fucking knew about this?"

Oh fuck.

She lifted her hand to rewind, but stopped when Rachel shook her head. A silent conversation passed between them in an instant, and she relented for now. "I did. I've known since…" She glanced at Frank. "…since before all this started. I'm sorry I didn't tell you, but I knew you'd react like this."

"Well you were goddamn right!"

"Look, you clearly don't want me here, and the feeling's mutual," said Frank, holding up his hands and backing up. "Go ahead and have your little girl fight. I'll be ready whenever you finally grow a pair."

"That's right, run away!"

He ignored her, turning on his heel and disappearing into the RV. As soon as he was out of sight, Chloe resumed glaring at Rachel with unholy fury.

"Okay Chloe, I know you're mad, but I can explain."

"Explain what? How you fucking lied to me and Max on Tuesday? How you've been lying about who knows how many other things?" She gestured towards the RV. "God, what did you even see in him? He's a fucking loser who sells drugs out of a shitty RV with only his mangy dog for company."

"As opposed to a cool model citizen like you, who sits in her room all day smoking pot and bitching about her stepfather? And don't insult Pompidou just because you're mad at me."

"The _dog_? You're defending the dog? What about your old boytoy?"

Rachel shrugged. "What about him? We had some good times together, but it didn't work out. We broke it off on good terms, and it's in the past now."

"But you told me he scared the shit out of you," said Max. "Or was that a lie too?"

"No, he did. He was drunk and pissed off because one of his buddies overdosed, and I walked in at a bad time. He apologized for it, and I forgave him. It wasn't why we broke up. It was because you called Chloe that one night, and I decided to reevaluate my life. That part of what I told you was true."

Crossing her arms, Chloe leaned slightly to one side. "Why'd you even start dating in the first place? In case you forgot, his old boss fucking stabbed you."

"That's actually the reason I started spending time with him," she answered. "He had answers about my mom, and he was willing to kill Damon over what he did to me. Frank made me feel safe at a time when I felt like I was on a beach at high tide, ready to be swept away. Everything else just kinda happened from there."

She reeled back as if struck. "I don't make you feel safe?"

"Of course you do! But you're not the only person in my life, Chloe." She gestured towards the two of them. "That's kinda why I suggested this whole arrangement."

"So that's it, then? You're just collecting people for your harem?"

Rolling her eyes, she looked up at the sky briefly before answering. "Chloe, listen. I know you're upset, but jealousy really isn't a good look on you. I'm not with Frank anymore. I'm with you two."

"For fuck's sake!" She stomped on the dirt in front of her, clenching her fists at her sides. "I'm not mad because you were banging Frank! I'm pissed because you didn't fucking tell me!"

Rachel craned her neck back and planted her hands firmly on her hips. "And why should I have? Huh? You don't get to know every little thing that goes on in my life, especially since we weren't dating at the time."

"Well we're dating now!"

"So what? I have a right to privacy, Chloe."

"Bullshit! You didn't tell me because you were afraid I'd give you shit for it!"

"Well given how you're acting right now I'd say that was a fair assessment!"

"Since when has me giving you shit _ever_ stopped you from doing something? Do you really care that much about what I think?"

"Yes, Chloe! I absolutely fucking care." She looked down, clasping her hands together in front of her waist. "You're one of the most important people in my life."

"Then why keep this from me? Were you ashamed of it or something? Were you even legal when you started—"

"That's not important," she said firmly. "Frank and I are over, okay? You and Max are the ones I care about the most now."

"That's not the fucking point!" Chloe thundered. "If you'll lie to me about something this stupid, what _won't_ you lie about? I'm losing track of what's real with you and what's just a face you put on around me! Is _anything_ you say true?"

"Of course it is! I love you, Chloe!"

"How can I believe that? How can I believe that the _second_ someone better comes along, you won't just ride off to Los Angeles without me?"

Reeling back, Rachel stared at her as if her shirt had begun sprouting gnomes. "Chloe I'd never-that's the dumbest fucking thing I've ever heard you say! You're the whole reason I _haven't_ left!"

"What?"

"I made it clear from fucking day one: I want out of Arcadia Bay." She stomped closer, pointing for emphasis with each syllable. "I told you I had no reason to stay. Nothing that was keeping me here. And then you came along."

Max moved her hand forward and opened her mouth, but produced no words. Rachel continued to erupt, while Chloe stood there, stunned.

"You never change, Chloe! I don't think you _want_ to! You're stuck in the past, and you try to drag in everyone around you. I think you actually _like_ being miserable, feeling like the whole world's out to get you. At least that way nothing ever has to be your fault!"

"Hey, fuck you! You think I like the way my life is? I wake up every morning _hating_ myself, hating this town, hating my dad for leaving me, and hating all the fucking bullshit that's happened in the last five years! Where do you get off telling me I want _any_ of this?"

Rachel chuckled darkly. "You know, I think I finally figured out what the tornado was for. The other me, the one that _died_ because she just couldn't stop hoping that one day you'd actually leave with her, sent that thing hurtling towards Arcadia Bay because as long as this fucking town exists, you're never gonna leave!"

"Well what about you? You've been saying the last few days that you don't want to leave before we get to the bottom of all this mystical shit!"

"And what have you done to help? You've shot down every idea Max and I have, like this shit is just supposed to work itself out! You don't want us to bring anybody else into this either!"

"That's because your suggestions were Step-Fucker, Frank, and Nathan fucking Prescott! I don't trust any of them and neither should you!"

"You didn't think bringing in Warren would be a good idea either," said Max, folding her arms over her chest. "But so far he's been nothing but helpful."

"So you're taking _her_ side, then?"

"Yes, because you're being ridiculous, Chloe! Both of you are! If you'd both calm down for five fucking minutes you'd see how stupid it is to fight like this when we have way more important shit to worry about!"

"Like what? We're getting nowhere on this investigation, and every answer we _do_ find leads to five more questions! What if the reason we haven't been able to find anyone who framed Rachel is because she's been lying about everything?"

She leaned forward, all rationality having left her eyes, replaced with fiery rage. "What if those drugs _were_ yours all along?"

"Chloe, that doesn't make any sense! You're angry and you need to go cool down before you say anything else you'll regret!"

"I'm not the one who should be having regrets!" She ground her teeth, turning back to Rachel. "I have been listening to you whine for three years about how your perfect fairy tale life fell apart when you realized, surprise, your dad's a shitty person! But that's got _nothing_ on what I've gone through! You're still a spoiled princess who can't be honest with anybody because they're all just too busy worshipping you! Boo fucking hoo!"

Rachel's defenses faltered, and for a moment she looked as though Chloe had shot her through the heart. Then her face reassembled itself into a mask of anger that matched the other girl's, and Max could only watch helplessly as they tore each other to shreds.

"That's enough, Chloe. I may not have gone through what you did, but I have _been there_ for you ever since we met. You can't move on because you define yourself by that one day when your life changed forever. That's what Frank was for me. A way to move on. But that never meant I wanted to leave you behind. I want you to move forward _with_ me."

"You know something funny? My mom said the same thing about David." She turned away, glaring at a nearby cinderblock. "Maybe I'm not ready to move on. Maybe I never will be."

"That's where you're wrong, Chloe. Maybe you haven't been able to see it, but you _have_ been healing these past three years. I wouldn't have suggested this relationship if I didn't think there was a future for all of us. And I want to be here when you're ready to be part of that future."

"Then why lie to me?"

By now tears had formed in all of their eyes, and Chloe's voice had started to break. Rachel frowned and broke her gaze, her voice descending to a low mutter.

"I don't know. Maybe I should have told you the truth. But I'm not the one who can change the past. And neither are you. We just have to find a way to live with it."

"And take it from me," said Max. "Sometimes going back to change things just makes it all worse."

It was silent for a few moments before Chloe chuckled darkly, offering nothing in reply. She turned and started walking away, and neither of them stopped her. Max raised a hand to rewind, but Rachel intercepted her and lowered it again. They watched in silence as Chloe marched to the truck, then peeled out in a wide arc before rocketing off down the road.

"Don't bother, Max," said Rachel, trying to hold the pieces of her heart together. "I'd just say it all again."


	29. Mr Brightside

**Chapter Twenty Nine**  
Mr. Brightside

The stereo roared with metal and rage as Chloe sped down the highway, g-forces tugging hard on the old truck as it struggled through the curves. Chloe felt her body being pulled hard towards some inevitable doom, but then the feeling passed and she drank in the thrill of acceleration. Above her, a downpour started from dark storm clouds that hadn't been on that morning's forecast, but which had been looming overhead ever since she left the junkyard.

The next turn almost lifted the truck onto two wheels, but she righted her path, just narrowly missing the driver's side mirror of a minivan with a pair of stupid brats in the backseat who turned and tracked her vehicle as she sped off across the blacktop. She ran two fingers in a straight line across her eyes, wiping loose the tears that had been fogging her vision for the last half mile. A few seconds later, she activated the windshield wipers to address a similar problem.

"FUCK!" she screeched, smacking the steering wheel with both hands. The edges of her palms began to throb, but that only fueled her wrath as she stomped down harder on the accelerator.

It had been a long time since Chloe had truly let her rage boil over. Her preferred method of dealing with shit was to just go numb, seeking oblivion in drugs, booze, and cheap cigarettes. But that only formed a thin layer of ice over the cauldron of anger that was spilling out of her, and she couldn't stop the eruption even if she wanted to.

The road was straight for another mile or so, enough that she couldn't see where it curved over the horizon. She was getting further inland, away from what passed for civilization in a town this small. Even three years later, the scars from the wildfire were gouged deep into the landscape, an ever-present reminder of what happened when Rachel did something on impulse without any regard for the consequences. Lightning rippled through the clouds in the distance, and the thunder followed.

Chloe howled as she pushed the pedal to the floor, screaming so loud it briefly drowned out the radio that was blasting some punk song she couldn't be bothered to remember the name of. The horizon edged closer, and the needle kept climbing higher, until the truck hit its limit.

It started with a brief skid, then the tires started to hydroplane, and suddenly Chloe was in the wrong lane, fighting to wrangle the steering wheel as it bucked wildly out of control. She started to spin, and her instincts saved her as she steered into it, cycloning across the road until she came to a halt off the shoulder, kicking up a maelstrom of dust. The soil on the side of the road had not yet turned to mud, but that was only a matter of time.

She sat there stunned for a minute, the beastly anger of the music thundering past her like whitewater rapids as her whole body turned cold and heavy like a stone. All sound faded to the edges of her perception, drowned out by a persistent ringing that she could do nothing but endure, staring blankly at the ruined forest.

A hand reached out and turned off the stereo, and it took her a moment to realize that the hand was both her own and… not her own.

"What did I tell you about driving angry, sweetheart?"

She jolted upright, shaking her head rapidly as the question caught her off guard. "Nothing. You never got the chance."

"Mm." William Price turned his gaze upon her, and she faced away. "Still, you should know better than to be so reckless. Are you that desperate to end up like me?"

"What?" she whirled on him. "You weren't pissed off that day. You were happy to go see mom."

"Well, I had to be that way in front of you and Max," he said. "But when you've been married that long, the little things get annoying after a while. Things you were grateful to do in the beginning just become another chore. It's like setting your favorite song as your alarm: after a while you don't feel the same way you did before, because it's associated with something you don't always feel like doing."

"So… what? You hated being married to mom?"

He shook his head. "I didn't say that. That kind of thing is a true test of love. Love isn't a feeling, or some series of heartfelt gestures. It's putting up with all those little things because the other person is worth it. It's a choice you make every day."

"Well this wasn't exactly a 'little thing.' How could Rachel lie to me like that?"

"You already know the answer. And besides, that's not the right question."

Chloe huffed, expelling a blast of air out her nostrils and nodding bitterly. "You're right. A better question would be if she ever loved me, or if I'm just someone who held her attention for a while. Why wasn't I enough for her?"

"Was she enough for you?"

She blinked, taken aback once more. "Of course. She's everything to me."

"And what about Max? I always got the impression _she_ meant the world to you."

"She still does. I can love them both."

"Then why can't Rachel do the same?"

"Because it's… Frank! And because she didn't tell me!" She gesticulated with her hands, clenching them into angry claws with nothing to grasp. "She's spent the last three years whining about how her dad lied to her all her life, but she can't stop doing it to me!"

William nodded, pursing his lips as his eyes scanned over the horizon of dead trees.

"It sounds like you're upset because you thought Rachel was just as willing to share everything with you as you were with her." He glanced her way, and she stared back. "But just because people keep secrets, it doesn't mean they don't care about you."

"Oh yeah, because that's a great excuse! Her dad always said he was protecting her, but he was willing to have her mom kidnapped just to save his own reputation! And the only person Rachel was protecting was herself, because she was more afraid of having an honest conversation than she was of pushing me away!"

"There are other reasons to keep secrets besides trying to protect someone's feelings. Sometimes people aren't ready to share something that's important to them, and that doesn't always mean they're ashamed of it. They just need time."

"She had time! They broke up six fucking months ago and I never knew they were seeing each other in the first place! How many other things has she lied about?"

"You asked her all these questions already. What do you expect to learn from a dead man?"

"I don't know! You showed up on your own!"

William tilted his head to the side. "Did I? Or did you call me here?"

"The fuck is that supposed to mean?"

"You've said it so many times, Chloe: I'm not real. I'm a fragment of your subconscious, given life by whatever it is you're connected to. I wouldn't be here unless you wanted someone to talk to. The only question is: do you actually want to get to the bottom of why you're angry, or do you just want to be right?"

"I already know why I'm angry!"

"Do you?"

"Yes!"

"So why?"

"Because if Rachel was keeping all this shit from me this whole time, then that means everyone who ever warned me about her was right! She lied to me and manipulated me into doing so much crazy shit for her, and I didn't care because she was the only one who made me feel like I wasn't alone after you died and Max left! And now I don't know if any of what we had was real!"

"Reality is a matter of perspective. Just because I don't meet your criteria for being real, that doesn't mean I don't exist. Even if it's just in your head. We all exist inside our own understanding of things, and everybody's world is just a little bit different than yours. If it felt real to you at the time, then it _was_ real, even if it was a lie."

He smirked. "And you're still not asking the right question."

Chloe sat there for a long time, completely silent, and the specter of her dead father gazed off into the distance. What question was he talking about? She'd asked them all already, and was no closer to answers. She couldn't trust any of them. Not anymore.

Then, in a flash of inspiration, it hit her.

"Why do I care so much about something that was none of my business?"

"Bingo." He fired a finger gun in her direction. "Sometimes the people closest to us have a different sense of boundaries, and sometimes they're not ready to put the same amount of themselves into a relationship as you are. They have other friendships, other goals; other parts of their life that don't always involve you. That's normal, and it doesn't mean they love you any less."

The bitter rage began to cool, and Chloe's eyes glistened as the words began to sink in. "You know, for a dead man you're still taking me to school on all this relationship bullshit."

"Don't forget." He smiled, and she did too. "Everything I'm saying comes from you. These are all things you know, deep down, but won't admit to yourself. That's why you called me here."

She produced a hoarse, broken laugh, and her smile grew wider. "I'm glad I did."

"I'll always be here, Chloe. Whenever you need me."

Nodding slowly, she turned her gaze towards the road for a moment, and when she looked back, he was gone. She sighed and turned the radio on, switching to a station that was slightly less… intense.

 _I'm comin' out of my cage and I've been doin' just fine  
Gotta, gotta be down because I want it all_

"No." Her finger depressed the button again, and she sighed before putting the truck in gear. Checking behind her to see if it was safe to merge, she confirmed that the path was clear. When she faced forward again, her eyes narrowed as she saw an oncoming car in the opposite lane.

It was a tan station wagon that would have been past its heyday fifteen years ago, bland and forgettable, but one she'd recognize anywhere. Her suspicions were confirmed when the car got close enough for her to see the whites of the driver's eyes. Her teeth gnashed as she clutched the steering wheel hard enough to turn her knuckles white.

"Eliot…"

The car whizzed by, and she kicked up a cloud of dust as she swung a hasty U-Turn, chasing after the one person she wouldn't feel bad about letting her rage out on right now.

* * *

"Nice going, genius!" Max smacked Rachel's shoulder with the back of her hand. "That was our ride you just scared off!"

Raising an eyebrow, Rachel slowly glanced over to her. "I didn't scare her off, Max. She decided to leave."

Her defenses collapsed instantly, and Max clutched her forehead. "I know. My heart's still beating a little fast because of all the adrenaline. I didn't mean to get all confrontational."

"It's been a confrontational kind of day."

"Why didn't you let me rewind? I could have reset everything to before the argument even started."

"And done what? Stop her from mentioning that story about me working for Frank? Stop Frank from blowing the whole thing? What happened was going to happen no matter what, and I'm not talking about how things played out just now. That conversation was way overdue."

"Why were you lying to Chloe this whole time? Did you really think she'd never find out?"

"I don't know. I hoped I wouldn't have to see Frank again. Maybe I just thought it wasn't that big a deal."

"It was to her. I told you how things played out in the other timeline."

"Listen, Max. I know that looked bad, but Chloe just needs some time to cool off. She'll come back once she's gotten over herself."

"I don't know. I've never seen her that angry before."

"Neither have I. But I stand by everything I said."

Max shook her head. "That's the problem, though. You're both so stubborn that neither of you will back down and admit you both did things wrong. Maybe all that stuff with Frank wasn't any of Chloe's business, but you _did_ lie when we asked you about it directly. You could have just said you didn't want to talk about it. You didn't have to make up that whole story about working for him and Sam."

"Would you have backed off?"

She frowned. "I know Chloe wouldn't."

"Exactly. It's not the same as the lies my dad told me. He tried to keep me from my mother—my _real_ mother—all the while letting me buy into this fantasy of a perfect life. That's not the same as keeping a relationship secret from someone you know would be hurt if they found out about it."

"How is it different, though? Your dad never set out to hurt you either. You both thought you were doing what was best by keeping it a secret, but that only makes it worse once the truth comes out. Chloe's really hurt, and I don't think she's gonna buy that line of reasoning."

"Don't forget, Max. You kept it a secret too, because you knew how she'd react. Don't act like you're better than me."

"I'm not," she responded firmly, stomping her foot. "My point is, whether you intended to or not, you lied to Chloe the same way your dad lied to you. And you're right: I didn't want to have this argument with her either, because I already lived through it. But in that timeline, you weren't even there to defend yourself. I thought maybe it'd be different this time."

"How so?"

"I don't know. You always seem to know what to say, most of the time at least. I guess I forgot you're just human like the rest of us."

"Ain't that the truth. But I stand by everything I said, Max. Just because we're close doesn't mean you or Chloe are entitled to know every single thing that goes on with me."

"But if you really feel that way, why stop me from rewinding? Why let the secret stay out?"

Rachel slowly closed her eyes and sighed. "Because it wouldn't be fair to Chloe if we both remembered it and she got left in the dark again. All that other stuff needed saying. If I took it back now it wouldn't change the way I feel, and it'd just be more lies. I'm so tired of lying, Max. Like I said, I want to move forward, and I want both of you to come with me."

"God, that was so fucking crazy," Max groaned as she pulled back her eyebrows with both palms. "It started out with one little comment, and it just kept snowballing until… until…"

"Chaos theory in action." She folded one arm over her chest and gripped her her left tricep. "Every action has a ripple effect. So do words."

"It just all went wrong so fast. Years of friendship, so much time for all that tension to build… all for it to blow up in a second."

"That fuse started burning before you came back, Max. Now we just need to wait for Chloe to calm down so we can try picking up the pieces. Not like this is the first fight we've had. We always seem to come back to each other in the end."

"Forget waiting! We have to go find her and apologize!"

"How? As you so helpfully pointed out, she was our ride here."

"Then that means…" They both turned around to face the RV. "Oh no."

* * *

The winding curves of the highway made following the other vehicle easier than Chloe had anticipated. The terrain was long, flat, and made it easy to see things ahead but more difficult to glimpse a truck behind you, even if that truck was decades past its heyday. But it still worked and got her where she needed to go, and with a little love and attention she'd managed to hold onto it and the independence it represented.

Rachel had congratulated her long ago for finding an escape vehicle, but she'd let herself get caught in a quagmire of trying to figure out their relationship for so long that they ultimately ended up going nowhere. That was Arcadia Bay for you—a purgatory named after paradise.

Even though her nerves were still raw from that morning's confrontation, for the first time in a long time Chloe felt free. No longer was she bound by Rachel's spell; they'd both bared their true colors back there, and now that her anger had cooled Chloe could recognize that the other girl had some valid points. None of it excused all the lying, but now that the truth was out there, maybe they could find a way to move forward, together.

But that could wait.

She'd been getting sinister vibes from Eliot ever since he'd shown up again, and if he was this far out in the countryside there was only one place he could be going. Max had already confirmed that he and Drew were connected to the auto repair shop, and however complicated things were with Rachel right now, Chloe was still committed to clearing her name. At the very least that would give them more freedom to figure out where to go next.

' _Thank Christ I didn't go all the way with her last night._ ' Eliot rounded a curve up ahead and she followed roughly ten seconds later. ' _This whole thing is fucked up enough as it is_.'

She still wasn't sure what had made her disengage when she'd literally been dreaming about that for years. But Chloe didn't have any real insight other than the fact that it didn't feel right in the moment. Maybe if they found a way through all this bullshit they could try again someday, but right now it just wasn't in the cards.

She could see the repair shop on the horizon, and she removed her foot from the gas, allowing herself to fall back just far enough that she wouldn't arrive right on Eliot's heels. She saw him turn off the main road, coming to a stop exactly where she knew he would. She pulled over and reached into Rachel's bag, producing the binoculars. With that, she turned off the radio and settled in, waiting for the right moment.

About ten minutes later, she spied something peculiar.

"What the fuck? Why are the cops here?"

She recognized Officer Berry the second he stepped out of his patrol cruiser, and her view traveled over to the office, where the man she'd come to know as Clayton Bradshaw emerged. A short conversation followed, which ended with Officer Berry tipping his hat and returning to his vehicle, then driving away in Chloe's direction. She ducked down quickly to avoid being spotted, then started up the truck. Something definitely wasn't adding up here.

Bradshaw was still in the driveway of the auto shop when she pulled up, as was Eliot, who squinted suspiciously at her but said nothing. Chloe took a deep breath and hoped that some of Rachel's acting charm had rubbed off on her.

"Can I help you, miss?" Bradshaw asked as she exited the truck.

"You fix radiators? Think I might be leaking coolant and you were the only place nearby."

She actually had busted her radiator, but that had been fixed weeks ago. The cover story didn't need to hold up to that much scrutiny, just buy her enough time to get a closer look at things.

He nodded, cupping his chin between his thumb and forefinger. "Yeah, we can sort you out. Mind poppin' the hood?"

Chloe did so, and he leaned over to begin inspecting. "Uh-huh. Looks like a patch job. You're not leaking right now, but that won't hold together very long. I can take 'er in the back, have 'er ready for you in an hour or so."

"Sweet. You got a john I can use in the meantime? Haven't gone in hours."

He shrugged. "Yeah, sure. Elliot, show her where it's at."

Eliot's eyes narrowed into slits. "Of course," he said tightly, teeth clenched. "Right this way."

* * *

It took about three knocks for Frank to finally answer the door, opening it halfway to see them standing their sheepishly, their eyes looking elsewhere. Rachel had her arms folded over her chest with one hip cocked to the side, while Max spun her thumbs around each other with her hands dangling in front of her waist. He rolled his eyes, then turned around and opened the door the rest of the way. "Get in."

They obliged, with Rachel venturing into the RV first. Pompidou lunged at her leg, and she knelt down to scratch him behind the ears. Max followed in shortly after, shutting the door behind her.

"So I'm guessing Price took off?"

Rachel nodded, standing up as Pompidou scampered back to the bedroom. "Thanks for that, by the way."

"Hey, I wasn't the one lyin' to her this whole time." He sat down in the driver's seat, and Rachel sat in the chair next to him, while Max stood awkwardly by the kitchen counter. "Can't say I blame you, though. I've seen that girl go nuclear over the shit way smaller than that."

It was quiet for a few moments. "Frank… you know I don't regret what we had together, right? I just don't want you to think I lied to Chloe because I was ashamed or anything."

"You don't gotta worry about me. I know there's no hard feelings, and I wasn't about to start yelling about our relationship from the hilltops either. I always knew it was a temporary thing." He glanced over his shoulder. "I _am_ curious why you told her about it."

Max stared at him bug-eyed, and didn't have an answer. The other girl smiled and responded easily. "I got busted with drugs in my locker, remember? Everyone at Blackwell knows who you are, and I had to clear you as a suspect. So I told her why you'd never do something like that."

He nodded, staring out the front windshield. "What I wanna know is how someone got that much product into my territory without me knowing about it. They must've bought it somewhere outside Arcadia Bay, like Corvallis or Portland, maybe even Washington. None of my competition here moves that kinda weight."

"Whoever it was would need to be rich as hell," said Max. "That much weed has to be worth a lot of money. Why plant that much when even a dime bag would be enough to get the same result?"

"Because whoever did the frame job wanted to paint me as a dealer, not just a user," said Rachel. "We've been over this."

Shaking her head, she walked closer. "It's more than that. Whatever this person's goal is, they're willing to throw away any amount of money to make it happen. Like it doesn't even matter to them."

"That still doesn't get us any closer to figuring out who did it."

"Maybe not," she admitted, then turned to Frank. "But there is another clue. I think I know who stole your ledger."

He immediately sat up straighter, shifting in his seat to look at her. "Who?"

"Nathan Prescott."

"How do you figure?"

"Kate Marsh and Victoria Chase both got drugged at Vortex Club parties within the last two weeks," she answered. "Nathan was in charge of both parties, so we asked him to help us investigate. Earlier this morning, Kate told me he showed her proof that Stella Hill bought some drugs that could have done the job. I think your ledger was that proof."

"Stella? Is that little shithead serious? After he made me drive all the way out to the boonies to sell him some GHB and—" He stopped. "Forget I said that."

"Wait," said Rachel, playing dumb. "Are you saying Nathan bought drugs like that?"

"Maybe. I dunno. Without that ledger I couldn't tell you specifics even if I wanted to. Gotta protect my clients."

Raising an eyebrow, Max stood there with her arms crossed. "Sounds like you already failed at that."

"Hey listen to me you little punk, I—"

"Frank." Rachel said it softly but with conviction, and he sat back down. "You've already told us this much. Do you remember anything off the top of your head about what they bought from you?"

Sighing, he scratched his chin and concentrated. "Fine. But only because it's you. Stella wanted hydromorphone, benzodiazepine and some speed. Nathan bought way too much shit from me to remember it all. Guy's like a walking pharmacy."

"Well speed obviously wouldn't knock anybody out," said Max. What about the other two?"

He sent her a sour look, but answered all the same. "Benzodiazepine would do it. It's a sedative and a muscle relaxer. Take too much and it can even cause amnesia. But hydromorphone is something you gotta inject if you want it to work right. You won't get very good results if you slip it in someone's drink because it doesn't absorb well through the mouth. Plus it tastes like shit."

Max and Rachel sent each other a knowing glance. Jefferson had found plenty of excuses to inject her when she'd been at his mercy. Whether it was one of the drugs Frank was describing or something else entirely, she wasn't in any hurry to find out.

"Have you ever considered becoming an actual pharmacist?" Rachel asked half-jokingly. "You really know your shit."

He sent a brief chuckle her way. "If that little fucker really did steal my ledger, I don't care who he's connected to. Thanks for letting me know."

"I still don't know what any of this has to do with why the weed got planted."

"I think it's because whoever did it wanted people to focus on whoever had that much money to throw around," said Max. "Nathan would be a natural suspect given how much he bought from Frank, but now we have confirmation that he didn't." She glanced at Frank. "Still, I honestly doubt you'd have told any of this to the cops."

"Good instincts, kid."

"Everything about this is designed to mislead any potential investigation by getting people to overthink it and grasp at straws when the solution has to be a whole lot simpler. We're just not seeing the bigger picture."

Rachel squinted, staring at the floor for a minute before her eyes rose up to meet hers. "Which is what, exactly?"

* * *

The second they entered the office, Eliot practically slammed the door behind them. "What are you doing here, Chloe?"

Playing dumb had been working out so far, and it was fun, so Chloe just smirked. "I told you, I gotta take a leak."

"Don't _bullshit me_!" he whisper-shouted with a level of anger that surprised her, even after seeing how crazed he'd gotten during their confrontation three years ago. "I saw you tailing me all the way here. I know you're up to something."

"Okay, let's cut the shit, then." She moved closer to the desk, dancing around the edges of it without making a beeline. "I know you're involved with what happened to Rachel, somehow. Drew North spilled the beans on how you're both connected to this place, and I have it on good authority that this whole auto shop is just a front for doing fixer jobs. Only thing I don't get is how all the pieces fit together."

His teeth gnashed, and he stomped forward, cutting off the most direct path to the desk. "Rachel? That's why you're here? After three years you still don't realize how much that crazy bitch is lying to you?"

Chloe squinted, looking at him not with anger, but a serene sense of pity. ' _And here I thought_ I _was stuck in the past_.'

"It's the same old story every time, Chloe! Rachel lands in a world of trouble and then she talks you into doing something totally crazy to get her out of it! All this time and you still haven't learned anything!"

"Actually, Rachel and I aren't talking to each other right now, not that it's any of your business. What do you even have against her, man? You never told me that three years ago."

"Rachel is a lying snake from a family of lying snakes," he said through gritted teeth. "Just look where you are now. Would any of this have happened to you if it wasn't for her?"

"Hey dude, without her I wouldn't have gotten through the toughest time in my life. Yeah, she lied. A lot. But that's for me and her to work out, not for you to stand there and moralize at me. I've heard it all before anyway."

Chloe moved in a semicircle, angling closer to the desk and the open bathroom that she could see beyond it. Glancing around, she also spotted a desk full of papers, an open safe, and some jumper cables. In her pockets she had her keys, her phone, a stray parking ticket, eighty-seven cents, and an unopened tampon. A plan began to formulate.

"You don't get it. Because of her family, I lost my chance at a normal life. You think what happened to your dad was tragic? Mine disappeared for ten years and they found him in Chicago with a gun in his hand and his brains blown out. All because of what he knew!"

She craned her head back. "You mean Operation Charybdis?"

Eliot blinked in surprise. "How do you know about that?"

"Not important. And how is any of that Rachel's fault?"

"So you don't know what really happened." He chuckled and began to pace back and forth, which Chloe used to sneak closer to the desk. "Fine then, I'll explain it to you. Maybe then you'll see Rachel the way I do."

"Is this really the time for exposition, dude?"

"Do you want to hear it or not?"

Well, it seemed to be keeping him occupied while she set her plan in motion. "Eh, what the hell? I'll take any clue at this point."

"Most of the information in the official file is redacted, but my father kept an undoctored version of it in his safe. The Navy came looking for it, obviously, but he hid it well enough that I only discovered it when I turned thirteen. It told me everything I need to know."

"And where's this file now?"

"Somewhere secure. I might even show it to you one day. Let me ask you this first: do you know who Rachel's real parents are?"

Chloe nodded. "James Amber and Sera Gearhardt. Rose is just her stepmom."

Shaking his head, Eliot took his eyes off her just long enough that she was able to reach the jumper cables. "That's wrong. James Amber isn't her father."

"Wait, what?"

"Did you ever stop to wonder why she doesn't even look like him? She has blonde hair and hazel eyes, both of which are recessive traits. The _only_ person she resembles is her real mother, Sera."

"Okay, I might have flunked biology, but I'm pretty sure that's not how genetics work. Just because a gene is recessive doesn't mean it'll never show up."

"Except my father wrote down exactly how she was born. Rachel doesn't _have_ a father, Chloe. She was born of the land, or at least that's how he described it. It involved some sort of blood ritual out in the woods. Once it was over, Sera was pregnant and gave birth nine months later. She convinced James to go along with the story, and they moved to California until Rachel was ready to come back."

Chloe blue-screened for about ten seconds. "What the fuck? You're not making any—" She stopped short, remembering what Joseph Black Elk had described. Rachel had even mentioned a blood ritual, albeit one that occurred over a hundred years ago.

"You're starting to understand, aren't you?" He moved closer, and his expression made her skin crawl. "Rachel isn't even _human_. She's a freak of nature, a science experiment. My father left the project and ran, and in his notes he said he wanted to expose the truth to the world. And they killed him for it."

"Okay, so why get mad at her? The Prescotts were behind the whole fucking thing. Why not go after them?"

"Oh, I have plans for the Prescotts. But first, Rachel needs to go down. The whole world needs to know what she really is. And now that you know the truth, I'd be honored if you would help me."

She stared at him incredulously. Her father, or whatever facsimile of him she'd spoken to, was right. Everybody lived inside their own little world. Any lingering sympathy or guilt she'd harbored from kicking Eliot out of her life had now vanished for good. And he was too wrapped up in his obsession for her to pity him.

Rolling her eyes, Chloe reached into her back pocket. "You know Eliot, I'd tell you to put a sock in it, but…" In one fluid motion, she kicked him square in the junk, causing him to double over in pain, before jamming the tampon in his mouth and pulling the cord, where it expanded into a makeshift gag. "This'll do in a pinch!"

"Mrrft!"

Not even giving him a chance to recover, she snatched the jumper cables and wrapped them around his legs, then his arms, producing a makeshift hogtie before shoving him through the bathroom door, where his head collided with the porcelain and knocked him unconscious. Shutting him inside, she pulled one of the filing cabinets in front of the door to block any attempt at escape.

' _Okay, think fast._ ' Her eyes scanned around the room in a frenzy. ' _The safe! Anything important would be in there_.' In a less hurried circumstance she might wonder why it had been left unlocked, but she wasn't one for looking gift horses in the mouth. A few seconds later, she hit paydirt.

"This is it." She exhaled to cool her nerves, then produced her phone and began rapidly taking pictures as she sorted through the file, before finally texting them to Max. "Now to get out of here."

The doorknob leading inside the office moved, and Clayton Bradshaw stepped through. "Hey, what's takin' so long in—"

They stared at each other for a few seconds before Chloe sheepishly raised her hand. "Uh, hi."

* * *

"Hey, hold up."

Frank and Rachel paused their conversation and glanced over at Max, who was scrolling through the text message log on her phone. "What is it, Max?"

"It's from Chloe." She pointed to a picture the other girl had sent, detailing the contents of a manila folder.

"Chloe?" Rachel stood up, moving closer and standing over Max's shoulder. "Is she alright? Where is she?"

"I asked, but she hasn't answered. This text is all she sent." She zoomed in closer and squinted. "Looks like there's a few pieces of evidence here. An invoice for a transmission replacement for Sean Prescott, a shipping manifest for fertilizer, blueprints for Blackwell Academy, and… is that Stella's school file?"

"It is." Rachel grabbed the phone and, with a few quick keystrokes, emailed it to Frank's laptop, which the three of them then gathered around. "Looks like her schedule, mostly. Check this out: she's Wells' admin assistant first period."

"Meaning she could have gotten access to your locker combination," Max realized. "But what do the other two mean?"

"It has to be related to that auto repair place," she said. "Chloe and I found an invoice for an 'oil change' in David's files, but it was for like a thousand bucks. If this is for a transmission replacement, it must be a different kind of job. No idea what the fertilizer means, though."

"It's ammonium nitrate," Frank said from behind them. "Since Bradshaw doesn't exactly own a farm I'm guessing he needs it for something else."

Max quirked her lips to the side. "Such as?"

"It's the main ingredient in a commercial explosive called ANFO," Rachel answered after a quick google search. "You need a few other ingredients for it, but they're not that hard to come by."

"Especially if you get someone like Drew and Eliot to drive all over town picking up packages for you."

Frank scratched his chin. "Come to think of it, a bunch of fertilizer got stolen Tuesday night from one of the stores in town. Along with a few gallons of diesel fuel. If that is what they're planning to do with it, they'd still need someone who knows how to mix it all together."

Rachel's face turned pale. "You mean like a chemistry teacher who's been missing since Tuesday?"

"Exactly."

"What do you think, Max?" She turned to look at the other girl, who was still staring deeply into her phone like it held the mysteries of the universe. "Max?"

"Rachel, check your Facebook."

She raised an eyebrow but complied, reeling back in shock when she saw what Max was referring to. "What the fuck? I didn't write this."

"What is it?" asked Frank.

"It's a threat," she explained. "Apparently I'm so upset about getting suspended from Blackwell that I want to take the whole school down with me. It says 'enjoy the fireworks.'" She looked up at Max. "How'd you think to check for this?"

"Because of what happened with Victoria," she answered. "Stella, Brooke, and _maybe_ Alyssa were all involved in this too. And now it makes perfect sense."

"What does?"

"This whole time we've been so focused on the idea that either you, your father, or Blackwell was the real target here. But that's not it at all. There's another group involved, one that you're connected to. It makes you the perfect scapegoat."

"Scapegoat for what?"

"Somebody wants the Black Elks to go down," she answered. "And they're willing to bomb Blackwell Academy to do it."


End file.
